LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Ch?..p. Copyright No, 

Shelt-'Ai"-. 



a^s 



UNITED STATES^F AMERICA. 




HORTEKSE. 



THE HISTORY 



OF 



HQRTENSE, 

DAUGHTER OF JOSEPHINE, QUEEN OF HOLLAND, 
MOTHER OF NAPOLEON III. 



Ky JOHN S.'C. ABBOTT, 

ATJTUOE OP 

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION," "HISTORY OF NAPOLEON BONj 

PARTE," &c., Ac. 



WITH ENGRA VIXGS. 




NEW YORK: 
HARPER & BR 01 HERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 






\'^^^CL 









24^4 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 

Harper & Brothers, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 

Southern District of New York. 

Copyright. iSyS, by Laura A. Blck. 



PREFACE 



THE French Revolution was perhaps as im- 
portant an event as has occurred in the 
history of nations. It was a drama in three 
acts. The first was the Revolution itself, prop- 
erly so called, with its awful scenes of terror 
and of blood— the exasperated millions strug- 
gling against the accumulated oppression of 
ages. 

The second act in the drama was the over- 
throw of the Directory by Kapoleon, and the 
introduction of the Consulate and the Empire; 
the tremendous struggle against the combined 
dynasties of Europe; the demolition of the 
Empire, and the renewed crushing of the peo- 
ple by the triumph of the nobles and the kings. 

Thp.n came the third act in the drama — per- 



viii Preface. 

baps the last, perhaps not — in which the French 
people again drove oat the Bourbons, re-estab- 
lished the Eepublican Empire, with its princi- 
ple of equal rights for all, and placed upon the 
throne the heir of the great Emperor. 

No man can understand the career of Napo- 
leon I. without being acquainted with those 
scenes of anarchy and tensor which preceded 
his reign. No man can understand the career 
of Napoleon III. unless familiar with the strug- 
gle of the people against the despots in the 
Eevolution, their triumph in the Empire, their 
defeat in its overthrow, and their renewed tri- 
umph in its restoration. 

Hortense was intimately associated with all 
these scenes. Her father fell beneath the slide 
of the guillotine ; her mother was imprisoned 
and doomed to die; and she and her broth- 
er were turned penniless into the streets. By 
the marriage of her mother with Napoleon, she 
became the daughter of the Emperor, and one 
of the most brilliant and illustrious ladies of 
tbe imperial court. The triumph of the Allies 
sent her into exile, where her influence and 



Preface. ^^ 

her instruction prepared her son to contribute 
powerfully to the restoration of the Empire, 
and to reign with ability which is admired by 
his friends and acknowledged by his^ foes. 
The mother of Napoleon III. never allowed 
her royally-endowed son to forget, even in the 
gloomiest days of exile and of sorrow, that it 
might yet be his privilege to re-establish the 
Kepublican Empire, and to restore the dynasty 
of the people from its overthrow by the des- 
potic Allies. 

In this brief record of the life of one wno 
experienced far more than the usual vicissi- 
tudes of humanity, whose career was one o^ 
the saddest upon record, and who ever exhib- 
ited virtues which won the enthusiastialove of 
all who knew her, the writer has admitted 
nothing which can not be sustained by incon- 
trovertible evidence, and has suppressed noth- 
ing sustained by any testimony worthy of a 
moment's respect. This history will show that 
Hortense had her foults. AYho is without 
them? There are not many, however, who 
will read these pages without profound ad mi- 



X Preface. 

ration for the character of one of the noblest 
of women, and without finding the eye often 
dimmed, in view of her heart-rending griefs. 

This volume will soon be followed by the 
History of Louis Philippe. 



CONTENTS, 



CIIAPTEE PAGE 

I. PARENTAGE AND BIRTH 15 

II. MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE AND GENERAL BONA- 
PARTE 49 

III. HORTENSE AND DUROC 80 

IV. THE MARRIAGE OF HORTENSE 110 

V. THE BIRTH OF LOUIS NAPOLEON AND THE DIVORCE 

OF JOSEPHINE 148 

VI. THE DEATH OF JOSEPHINE 179 

VII. THE SORROWS OF EXILE 211 

VIII. PEACEFUL DAYS, YET SAD 239 

IX. LIFE AT ARENEMBERG 293 

X. LETTER FROM LOUIS NAPOLEON TO HIS MOTHER 322 
XI. DEATH OF HORTENSE, AND THE ENTHRONEMENT 

OF HER SON. 358 



ENGRAVINGS. 



PAGK 

y' ,... Frontispiece. 

HORTENSB 

^ JOSEPHINE TAKING LEAVE OF HER CHILDREN ^» 

^ THE RECONCILIATION ' 

* THE LOVE-LETTER • 

' THE LITTLE PRINCE NAPOLEON 

' THE DIVORCE ANNOUNCED '* 

•/THE DEATH OF MADAME BROC 

\ HORTENSE AND HER CHILDREN -^^ 

. HORTENSE AT ARENEMBERG ^- " 

. INTERVIEW IN THE COLISEUM ''J 

, THE STUDY OF LOUIS NAPOLEON |J 

^ ooo 

. THE ARREST 



HORTENSE. 



Chapter I. 
Parentage and Birth. 



Josephine's voyage to France. 



IN the year 1776 a very beautiful young lady, 
by the name of Josephine Rose Tascher, 
was crossing the Atlantic Ocean from the island 
of Martinique to France. She was but fifteen 
years of age ; and, having been left an orphan 
in infancy, had been tenderly reared by an un- 
cle and aunt, who were wealthy, being propri- 
etors of one of the finest plantations upon the 
island. Josephine was accompanied upon the 
voyage by h'er uncle. She was the betrothed 
of a young French nobleman by the name of 
Yiscount Alexander de Beauharnais, who had 
recently visited Martinique, and who owned 
several large estates adjoining the property 
which Josephine would probably inherit. 

It was with great reluctance that Josephine 
yielded to the importunities of her friends and 



16 lioiiTENSE. [1776. 



VUcoiint de Beauhariiai;?. 



accepted the proffered hand of the viscount 
Her affections had long been fixed upon a play- 
mate of her childhood by the name of William, 
and her love was passionately returned. Wil- 
liam was then absent in France, pursuing his 
education. De Beauharnais was what would 
usually be called a very splendid man. He 
was of high rank, young, rich, intelligent, and 
fascinating in his manners. The marriage of 
Josephine with the viscount w^ould unite the 
properties. Her friends, in their desire to ac- 
complish the union, cruelly deceived Josephine. 
They intercepted the letters of William, and 
withheld her letters to him, and represented to 
her that William, amidst the gayeties of Paris, 
had proved a false lover, and had entirely for- 
gotten her. De Beauharnais, attracted by the 
grace and beauty of Josephine, had ardently 
offered her his hand. Under these circum- 
stances the inexperienced maiden had consent- 
ed to the union, and was now crossing the At- 
lantic with her uncle for the consummation of 
the nuptials in France. 

Upon her arrival she was conducted to Fon* 
tainebleau, where De Beauharnais hastened to 
meet her. Proud of her attractions, he took 
great pleasure in introducing her to his liigh- 



1776.] Parentage and Birth. 17 



Josephine's reluctance. 



born friends, and lavished upon ber every at^ 
tention. Josephine was grateful, but sad, for 
her heart still yearned for William. Soon Wil- 
liam, hearing of her arrival, and not knowing 
of her engagement, anxiously repaired to Fon° 
tainebleau. The interview was agonizing. Wil- 
liam still loved her with the utmost devotion. 
They both found that they had been the vic- 
tims of a conspiracy, though one of which De 
Beauharnais had no knowledge. 

Josephine, young, inexperienced, far from 
home, and surrounded by the wealthy and pow- 
erful friends of her betrothed, had gone too flxr 
in the arrangements for the marriage to recede. 
Her anguish, however, was so great that she 
was thrown into a violent fever. She had no 
friend to whom she could confide her emotions. 
But in most affecting tones she entreated that 
her marriage might be delayed for a few months 
until she should regain her health. Her friends 
consented, and she took refuge for a time in 
the Convent of Panthemont, under the tender 
care of the sisters. 

It is not probable that De Beauharnais was 
at all aware of the real state of Josephine's feel- 
ings. He was proud of her, and loved her as 
truly as a fashionable man of the world could 
2 



18 HORTENSE. [1781. 

Mari'iage. Birth of Eugene. 

love. It is also to be remembered, that at that 
time in France it was not customary for young 
ladies to have much influence in the choice of 
their husbands. It was supposed that their 
parents could much more judiciously arrange 
these matters than the young ladies themselves. 

Josephine was sixteen years of age at the 
time of her marriaf?e. Her attractions were so 
remarkable that shG immediately became a 
great favorite at the French court, to which the 
rank of her husband introduced her. Marie 
Antoinette was then the youthful bride of 
Louis XVI. She was charmed with Josephine, 
and lavished upon her the most flattering at- 
tentions. Two children were born of this mar- 
riage, both of whom attained world-wide re- 
nown. The first was a son, Eugene. He was 
born in September, 1781. His career was very 
elevated, and he occupied with distinguished 
honor all the lofty positions to which he was. 
raised. He became duke of Leuchtenberg, 
prince of Eichstedt, viceroy of Italy. He mar- 
ried the Princess Augusta, daughter of the King 
of Bavaria. 

" P'ince Eugene, under a simple exterior, 
concealed a noble character and great talents. 
Honor, integrity, humanity, and love of order 



1783.] Paeentage and Birth, 



19 



Birlh of Hortens 



and justice were the principal traits of his char- 
acter. Wise in the council, undaunted in the 
field, and moderate in the exercise of power 
he never appeared greater than in the midst 
of reverses, as the events of 1813 and 1814 
prove. He was inaccessible to the spirit of 
party, benevolent and beneficent, and more de- 
voted to the good of others than his own."* 

The second child was a daughter, Hortense, 
the subject of this brief memoir. She was born 
on the 10th of January, 1783. In the opening 
scenes of that most sublime of earthly trage- 
dies, the French Eevolution, M. de Beauhar- 
nais espoused the popular cause, though of no- 
ble blood, and though his elder brother, the 
Marquis de Beauharnais, earnestly advocated 
the cause of the king and the court. 

The entire renunciation of the Christian re- 
ligion was then popular in France. Alexander 
de Beauharnais, like most of his young pleasure- 
loving companions, was an infidel. His con- 
duct soon became such that the heart of poor 
Josephinewas quite broken. Her two children, 
Eugene and Hortense, both inherited the affec- 
tionate and gentle traits of their mother, and 
were her only solace. In her anguish she un- 

* Encyclopaedia Americana. 



20 HORTENSE. [1783. 

Separation from Beauhar. ai^. 

guardedly wrote to her friends in Martinique, 
who had almost forced her into her connection 
with Beauharnais: 

"Were it not for my children, I should, 
without a pang, renounce France forever. 
My duty requires me to forget William. And 
yet, if ive had been united together, I should 
not to-day have been troubling you with my 
griefs." 

Viscount Beauharnais chanced to see this let- 
ter. It roused his jealousy fearfull3^ A sense 
of "honor" would allow him to lavish his at- 
tentions upon guilty favorites, while that same 
sense of " honor " would urge him to wreak 
vengeance upon his unhappy, injured wife, be- 
cause, in her neglect and anguish, with no false, 
but only a true affection, her memory turned 
to the loved companion of her childhood. Ac- 
cording to the standard of the fashionable world, 
Beauharnais was a very honorable man. Ac- 
cording to the standard of Christianity, he was 
a sinner in the sight of God, and was to answer 
for this conduct at the final judgment. 

He reproached his wife in the severest lan- 
guage of denunciation. He took from her her 
son Eugene. He applied to the courts for a 
divorce, demanding his daughter Hortense also. 



1786.] Parentage and Birth. 21 



Return to Martink 



Josephine pleaded with him in vain, for the >sake 
of their children, not to proclaim their disagree- 
ment to the world. Grief-stricken, poor Jose- 
phine retired to a convent to await the trial. 
The verdict was triumphantly in her favor. 
But her heart was broken. She was separated 
from her husband, though the legal tie was not 
severed. 

Her friends in Martinique, informed of these 
events, wrote, urging her to return to them. 
She decided to accept the invitation. Hortense 
was with her mother. M. de Beauharnais had 
sent Eugene, whom he had taken from her, to 
a boarding-school. Before sailing for Marti- 
nique she obtained an interview with M. de 
Beauharnais, and with tears entreated that she 
might take Eugene with her also. He was un- 
relenting ; J(xsephine, with a crushed and world- 
weary heart, folded Hortense to her bosom, then 
an infant but three years of age, and returned 
to her tropical home, which she had sadly left 
but a few years before. Here, on the retired 
plantation, soothed by the sympathy of her 
friends, she strove to conceal her anguish. 

There was never a more loving heart than 
that with which Josephine was endowed. She 
clung to Hortense with tenderness which has 



22 HORTENSE. [1789. 



Revisits France. 



rarely been equalled. They were always to- 
gether. During the day Hortense was ever by 
her side, and at night she nestled in her moth- 
er's bosom. Living amidst the scenes of trop- 
ical luxuriance and beauty, endeared to her by 
the memories of childhood, Josephine could al- 
most have been happy but for the thoughts of 
her absent Eugene. Grief for her lost child 
preyed ever upon her heart. 

Her alienated husband, relieved from all re- 
straint, plunged anew into those scenes of fash- 
ionable dissipation for which Paris was then 
renowned. But sickness, sorrows, and misfor- 
tunes came. In those dark hours he found 
that no earthly friend can supply the place of 
a virtuous and loving wife. He wrote to her, 
expressing bitter regret for his conduct, and im- 
ploring her to return. The wounds which Jo- 
sephine had received were too deep to be easi- 
ly healed. Forgiving as she was by nature, 
she said to her friends that the memory of the 
past was so painful that, were it not for Eugene, 
slie should very much prefer not to return to 
France again, but to spend the remainder of 
her days in the seclusion of her native island. 
Her friends did every thing in their power to 
dissuade her from returning. But a mother's 



1789.] Parentage and Bikth. 23 

The jewel caskets. 

love for her son triumphed, and with Hortense 
she took ship for France. 

An event occurred upon this voyage wliich 
is as instructive as it is interesting. Many 
years afterwards, when Josephine was Empress 
of France, and the wealth of the world was al- 
most literally at her feet, on one occasion some 
young ladies who were visiting the court re- 
quested Josephine to show them her diamonds. 
These jewels were almost of priceless value, 
and were kept in a vault, the keys of which 
were confided to the most trusty persons. Jo- 
sephine, wdio seldom wore jewels, very amiably 
complied with their request. A large table 
was brought into the saloon. Her maids in 
waiting brought in a great number of caskets, 
of every size and form, containing the precious 
gems. 

As these cnskets were opened, they were 
dazzled with the brilliancy, the size, and the 
number of these ornaments. The different sets 
composed probably by far the most brilliant 
collection in Europe. In Napoleon's conquer- 
ing career, the cities which he had entered lav- 
ished their gifts upon Josephine. The most 
remarkable of these jewels consisted of large 
white diamonds. There were others in the 



24 HORTENSE. [1789. 



The jewel caskets. 



shape of pears formed of pearls of the richest 
colors. There were opals, rubies, sapphires, 
and emeralds of such marvellous value that 
the large diamonds that encircled them were 
considered as mere mountings not regarded 
in the estimation made of the value of the jew- 
els. 

As the ladies gazed upon the splendor of 
this collection, thej were lost in wonder and 
admiration. Josephine, after enjojnng for a 
while their expressions of delight, and having 
allowed them to examine the beautiful gems 
thoroughl}^, said to them kindly : 

" I had no other motive, in ordering my jew- 
els to be opened before you, than to spoil your 
fancy for such ornaments. After having seen 
such splendid sets, you can never feel a wish 
for inferior ones ; the less so when you reflect 
how unhappy I iiave been, although with so 
rare a collection at my command. During the 
first dawn of my extraordinary elevation, I de- 
lighted in these trifles, many of which were 
presented to me in Italy. I grew by degrees 
so tired of them that I no longer wear an}^, ex- 
cept when I am in some respects compelled to 
do so by my new rank in the world. A thou- 
sand accidents may, besides, contribute to de- 



1789.] Parentage and Birth. 25 

The old pair of shoes. 

prive me of these brilliant, thongh useless ob- 
jects. Do I not possess the pendants of Queen 
Marie Antoinette? And yet am I quite sure 
of retaining them ? Trust to me, ladies, and 
do not envy a splendor which does not consti- 
tute happiness. I shall not fail to surprise you 
when I relate that I once felt more pleasure at 
receiving an old pair of shoes than at being 
presented with all the diamonds which are now 
spread before you." 

The young ladies could not help smiling at 
this observati^^n, persuaded as they were that 
Josephine was not in earnest. But she repeat- 
ed her assertions in so serious a manner that 
they felt the utmost curiosity to hear the story 
of this ivonderfid pair of shoes. 

"I repeat it, ladies," said her majesty, "it is 
strictly true, that the present which, of all oth- 
ers, has afforded me most pleasure was a pair 
of old shoes of the coarsest leathei-; and you 
will readily believe it when you have heard 
my story. 

" I had set s;x)l from Martinique, with Hor • 
tense, on board a ship in which we received 
such marked attentions that they are indelibly 
impressed on my memory. Being separated 
from my first husband, my pecuniary resources 



26 HOKTENSE. [1789. 

The old pair of shoes. 

were not very flourishing. The expense of 
my return to France, which the state of my af- 
fairs rendered necessary, had nearly drained 
me of every thing, and I found great difficulty 
in making the purchases which were indispen- 
sably requisite for the voyage. Ilortense, who 
was a smart, lively child, sang negro songs, and 
performed negro dances with admirable accu- 
racy. She was the delight of the sailors, and, 
in return for their fondness, she made them her 
favorite company. I no sooner fell asleep than 
she slipped upon deck and rehearsed her vari- 
ous little exercises, to the renewed delight and 
admiration of all on board. 

" An old mate was particularly fond of her, 
and whenever he found a moment's leisure from 
his daily occupations, he devoted it to his little 
friend, who was also exceedingly attached to 
him. My daughter's shoes were soon worn 
out with her constant dancing and skipping. 
Knowing as she did that I had no other pair 
for her, and fearing lest I should prevent her 
going upon deck if I should discover the plight 
of those she was fast wearing away, she con- 
cealed the trifling accident from my knowledge. 
I saw her once returning with bleeding feet, 
and asked her, in the utmost alarm, if she had 



1789.] Parentage and Birth. 27 



The old pair of shoes 



hurt herself; 'No, mamma.' 'But your feet 
are bleeding.' ' It really is nothing.' I insist- 
ed upon ascertaining what ailed her, and found 
that her shoes were all in tatters, and her flesh 
dreadfully torn by a nail. 

"We had as yet only performed half the 
vo3^age; a long time would necessarily elapse 
before I could procure a fresh pair of shoes; I 
was mortified at the bare anticipation of the 
distress my poor Hortense would feel at being 
compelled to remain confined in my wretched 
little cabin, and of the injury her health might 
experiejice from the want of exercise. At the 
moment when I was wrapped up in sorrow, and 
giving free vent to my tears, our friend the 
mate made his appearance, and inquired, with 
his honest bluntness, the cause of our whimper- 
ings. Hortense replied, in a sobbing voice, that 
she could no longer go upon deck because she 
had torn her shoes, and I had no others to give 
her. 

" ' Is that all ?' said the sailor. ' I have an 
old pair in my trunk ; let me go for them. 
You, madame, will cut them up, and I shall 
sew them over again to the best of my power ; 
every thing on board ship shall be turned to 
account ; this is not the place for being too nice 



28 HORTENSE. [1789. 

Commencement of the Reign of Tenor. 

or particular ; we have our most important 
wants gratified when we have the needful.' 

'' He did not wait for our reply, but went in 
quest of his old shoes, which he brought to us 
with an air of exultation, and offered them to 
Hortense, who received the gift with everj^ dem- 
onstration of delight. 

" We set to work with the greatest alacrity, 
and my daughter w^as enabled, towards the close 
of the day, to enjoy the pleasure of again amus- 
ing the ship's company, I repeat it, that no 
present was ever received by me with more 
sincere gratitude. I greatly reproach myself 
for having neglected to make inquiries after 
the worthy seaman, who was only known on 
board by the name of James. I should have 
felt a sincere satisfaction in rendering him some 
service, since it w^as afterwards in my power 
to do so." 

Josephine had spent three years in Marti- 
nique. Consequentl}^, upon her return to 
France, Hortense was six years of age. Soon 
after her arrival the Reign of Terror com- 
menced. The guillotine was erected, and its 
knife was busy beheading those w^ho were sus- 
pected of not being in full sympathy with the 
reformers whom revolution had brought into 



1783.] Paeentage and Birth. 29 

Arrest of Beauhara.iis. 

power. Thougli Yiscount Beauharnais had 
earnestly espoused the popular cause ; though 
he had been president of the National Assem- 
bly, and afterwards general of the Army of the 
Ehine, still he was of noble birth, and his older 
brother was an aristocrat, and an emigrant. 
He was consequently suspected, and arrested. 
Having conducted him to prison, a committee 
of the Convention called at the residence of 
Josephine to examine the children, hoping to 
extort from them some evidence against their 
father. Josephine, in a letter to her aunt, thus 
describes this singular scene: 

" You would hardly believe, dear aunt, that 
my children have just undergone a long and, 
minute examination. That wicked old man, 
the member of the committee whom I have al- 
ready mentioned to you, called upon me, and, 
affecting to feel uneasy in regard to my hus- 
band, and to converse with me respecting him, 
opened a conversation with my children. I 
acknowledge that I at first fell into the snare. 
What surprised me, however, was the sudderi 
affability of the man. But he soon betrayed 
himself by the malignity and even bitterness 
which he displaj-ed when the children replied 
in such a manner as to give him no advantage 



30 HORTENSE. [1783. 



Domiciliary visit. 



over their unhappy parents. I soon penetra- 
ted his artful intentions. 

" When he found me on mj guard, he threw 
off the mask, and admitted that he was desired 
to procure information from my children, which, 
he said, might be more relied on, as it would 
bear the stamp of candor. He then entered 
into a formal examination. At that moment 
I felt an indescribable emotion ; and the con- 
flicting effects of fear, anger, and indignation 
alternately agitated me. I was even upon the 
point of openly giving vent to my feelings 
against the hoary revolutionist, when I reflect- 
ed that I might, by so doing, materially injure 
M. de Beauharnais, against whom that atro- 
cious villain appeared to have vowed perpetual 
enmity. I accordingly^ checked my angry pas- 
sions. He desired me to leave him alone with 
my children ; I attempted to resist, but his fe- 
rocious glance compelled me to give wa^^ 

*' He confined Hortense in the closet, and 
began to put questions to her brother. My 
daughter's turn came next. As for this child, 
in whom he discovered a premature quickness 
and penetration far above her age, he kept 
questioning her for a great length of time. 
After having sounded them respecting our com- 



1783.] Parentage and Birth. 31 

Beauharnais in prison. 

mon topics of conversatioD, our opinions, the 
visits and letters we were in the habit of receiv- 
ing, but more particularly the occurrences they 
might have witnessed, he came to the main 
point — I mean, to the expressions used by Al- 
exander. My children gave very proper re- 
plies ; such, in fact, as were suited to their re- 
spective dispositions. And notwithstanding 
the artfulness of a mischievous man whose ob- 
ject is to discover guilt, the frankness of my 
son and the quick penetration of my daughter 
disconcerted his low cunning, and even defeat- 
ed the object he had in view." 

Yiscount Beauharnais, when arrested, was 
conveyed to the palace of the Luxembourg, 
where he was imprisoned with many other cap- 
tives. To spare the feelings of the children, 
the fact of his imprisonment was concealed from 
them by Josephine, and they were given to 
understand that their father, not being very 
well, had placed himself under the care of a 
celebrated physician, who had recommended 
him to take up his residence at the Luxem- 
bourg, where there was much vacant space, and 
consequently purer air. The imprisoned father 
was very anxious to see his wife and children. 
The authorities consented, allowing the chih 



82 HOKTENSE. [1783. 



Affecting interview. 



dren to go in first under the care of an attend- 
ant, and afterwards their mother. 

Hortense, child as she was, was bewildered 
by the scene, and her suspicions were evident- 
ly excited. As she came out, she said to her 
mother, "I think papa's apartments are very 
small, and the patients are very numerous." 

After the children had left, Josephine was in- 
troduced. She knew that her husband's life was 
in imminent peril. His penitence and grate- 
ful love had produced entire reconciliation, and 
had won back Josephine's heart. She was not 
willing that the children should witness the 
tender and affecting interview w^hich, under 
such circumstances, must take place. 

Beauharnais had but little hope that he 
should escape the guillotine. As Josephine, 
bathed in tears, rushed into his arms, all his 
fortitude forsook him. His emotion w^as so 
great that his wife, struggling against her own 
anguish, used her utmost endeavors to calm 
and console him. 

In the midst of this heart-rending scene, to 
their consternation, the children, by some mis- 
understanding, were again led into the apart- 
ment. The father and mother struggled to 
disguise from them the cause of that emotion 



1783.] Parentage and Birth. 33 

Affecting interview. 

which they could not conceal. For a time the 
children were silent and bewildered ; then Hor- 
tense, though with evident misgivings, attempt- 
ed to console her parents. The events of her 
saddened life had rendered her unusually pre- 
cocious. Turning to her mother, she begged 
her not to give way to so much sorrow, assur- 
ing her that she could not think that her father 
was dangerously ill. Then addressing Eugene, 
she said, in a peculiar tone which her parents 
felt as a reproach, 

" I do not think, brother, that papa is very 
sick. At any rate, it is not such a sickness as 
doctors can cure." Josephine felt the reproach, 
and conscious that it was in some degree de- 
served, said : 

"What do you mean, my child? Do you 
think your father and I have combined to de- 
ceive you ?" 

"Pardon me, mamma, but I do think so." 

"Oh, sister," exclaimed Eugene, "how can 
you speak so strangely ?" 

"On the contrary," Hortense replied, "it is 
very plain and natural. Surely affectionate 
parents may be allowed to deceive their chil- 
dren when they wish to spare their feelings." 

Josephine was seated in the lap of her hus- 



84 HOETENSE. [1788, 



Affecting interview. 



band. Hortense sprang into her mother's arms, 
and encircled the neck of both father and moth- 
er in a loving embrace. Eugene caught the 
contagion, and by his tears and affecting ca- 
resses added to this domestic scene of love and 
woe. 

It is the universal testimony that Eugene 
and Hortense were so lovely in person and in 
character that they instantly won the affection 
of all who saw them. The father was conscious 
that he was soon to die. Pie knew that all his 
property would be confiscated. It was proba- 
ble that Josephine would also be led to her ex- 
ecution. The guillotine spared neither sex 
who had incurred the suspicions of enthroned 
democracy. Both parents forgot themselves, 
in their anxiety for their children. The exe- 
cution of Bcauharnais would undoubtedly lead 
to the arrest and execution of Josephine. The 
property of the condemned was invariably con- 
fiscated. There was thus danger that the chil- 
dren would be turned in beggary into the 
streets. It is difficult to conceive the anguish 
which must have rent the hearts of affectionate 
parents in hours of woe so awful. 

The prisons were crowded with victims. 
Brief as were the trials, and rapid as was the 



1794.] Parentage and Birth. 35 



;cene in prison. 



execution of the guillotine, there was some con- 
siderable delay before Beauharnais was led be- 
fore the revolutionary tribunal. In the mean 
time Josephine made several calls, with her chil« 
dren, upon her imprisoned husband. Little 
llortense, whose suspicions were strongly ex- 
cited, watched every word, and soon became so 
convinced that her father was a prisoner that 
it became impossible for her parents any long- 
er to conceal the fact. 

"What has papa done," inquired Hortense, 
" that they will not let him come home?" 

" He has done nothing wrong," said Jose- 
phine, timidly, for she knew not what spies 
might be listening. " He is only accused of 
being unfriendly to the Government." 

Holding the hand of Eugene, Hortense ex- 
claimed impetuously, "Oh, we will punish your 
accusers as soon as we are strong enough." 

"Be silent, my child," said her father anx- 
iously. " If you are overheard I am lost. 
Both your mother and I may be made to suf- 
fer for any imprudent remark which you may 
make." 

"But, papa, have you not often told us," 
said Eugene, " that it was proper to resist an 
act of oppression ?" 



36 HORTENSE. [179i. 



Trial of Beauharnais. 



"Yes," said the father proudly, though con- 
scious that his words might be reported and 
misrepresented to his merciless judges. " And 
I repeat it. Our conduct, however, must be 
guided by rules of prudence ; and whoever at- 
tempts to defeat the views of tyranny must 
beware of awaking it from its slumbers." 

No philosophy has yet been able to explain 
the dehcate mechanism of the human soul; its 
fleeting and varying emotions of joy and sad- 
ness, its gleams of hope and shades of despair 
come and go, controlled by influences which 
entirely elude human scrutiny. In these days 
of gloom, rays of hope occasionally penetrated 
the cell of Beauharnais. 

At last the hour of dread came. Beauhar- 
nais was led before the terrible tribunal. He 
was falsely accused of having promoted the 
surrender of Mentz to the Allies. lie was 
doomed to death, and was sent to the Concierge- 
rie, whence be was to be conducted to his exe- 
cution. This was in July, 1794. Beauharnais 
was then thirty-four years of age. 

It seems that the conversation which we have 
reported as having taken place in the cell of 
Beauharnais had been overheard by listening 
ears, and reported to the committee as a con- 




JOSEPHINE TAKING LEAVE OF HER CHILDREN. 



1794] Parentage and Birth, 



Anguish of Josephiue. 



spiracy for the overthrow of the Republic. 
The arrest of Josephine was ordered. A warn- 
ing letter from some friend reached her a few 
moments before the officers arrived, urging her 
to fly. It was an early hour in the morning. 
There was little sleep for Josephine amidst 
those scenes of terror, and she was watching 
by the side of her slumbering children. What 
could she do? Should she abandon her chil- 
dren, and seek to save her own life by flight ? 
A mother's love rendered that impossible. 
Should she take them with her in her flight? 
That would render her arrest certain; and the 
fact of her attempting to escape would be urged 
as evidence of her guilt. 

While distracted with these thoughts, the 
clatter of armed men was heard at her door. 
With anguish which none but a mother can 
comprehend, she bent over her children and 
imprinted, as she supposed, a last kiss upon 
their cheeks. The affectionate little Hortense, 
though asleep, was evidently agitated by troub- 
led dreams. As she felt the imprint of her 
mother's lips, she threw her arms around her 
neck and exclaimed, "Come to bed, dear mam- 
ma; they shall not take you away to-night. I 
have prayed to God for you." 

Josephine, to avoid waking the children, 



40 HoRTEXSE. [1794. 



Arrest of Josephine. 



Stepped softly from the room, closed the door, 
and entered her parlor. Here she was rudely 
seized by the soldiers, who regarded her as a 
hated aristocrat. They took possession of the 
house and all its furniture in the name of the 
Eepublic, left the children to suffer or to die 
as fate might decide, and dragged the mother 
to imprisonment in the Convent of the Carme- 
lites. 

When the children awoke in the morning, 
they found themselves alone and friendless in 
the heart of Paris. The wonderful events of 
their lives thus far had rendered them both 
unusually precocious. Eugene in particular 
seemed to be endowed with all the thought- 
fulness and wisdom of a full-grown man. Af- 
ter a few moments of anguish and tears, in 
view of their dreadful situation, they sat down 
to deliberate upon the course to be pursued. 
Hortense suggested that they should repair to 
the Luxembourg and seek the protection of 
their father in his imprisonment there. But 
Eugene, apprehensive that such a step might 
in some way compromise the safety of their 
father, recalled to mind that they had a great- 
aunt, far advanced in life, who was residing at 
Versailles in deep retirement. He proposed 



1794.] Parentage and Birth. 41 

Impulsiveness of Hortense. 

that they should seek refuge with her. Find- 
ing a former domestic of the family, she kind- 
ly led them to their aunt, where the desolate 
children were tenderly received. 

Beauharnais was now in the Conciergerie, 
doomed to die, and awaiting his execution. 
Josephine was in the prison of the Carmelites, 
expecting hourly to be led to the tribunal to 
receive also her doom of death. 

Hortense, an affectionate child, ardent and 
unreflecting in her impatience to see her moth- 
er, one morning left her aunt's house at Fon- 
tainebleau, to which place her aunt had re- 
moved, and in a market-cart travelled thirty 
miles to Paris. Here the energetic child, im- 
pelled by grief and love, succeeded in finding 
her mother's maid, Victorine. It was however 
impossible for them to obtain access to the pris- 
on, and Hortense the next day returned to 
Fontainebleau. Josepliine, upon being inform- 
ed of this imprudent act, to which affection 
had impelled her child, wrote to her the fol- 
lowing letter : 

"I should be entirely satisfied with the good 
heart of my Hortense, were I not displeased 
with her bad head. How is it, my daughter, 
that, without permission from your aunt, you 



42 HORTENSE. [1794. 



Letter from Josephine. 



have come to Paris ? ' But it was to see me, 
you will say.' You ought to be aware that no 
one can see me without an order, to obtain 
which requires both means and precautions. 
And besides, you got upon M. Dorset's cart, 
at tlie risk of incommoding him, and retarding 
the conve3^ance of his merchandise. In all 
this you have been very inconsiderate. My 
child, observe : it is not sufficient to do good, 
you must also do good properlj^ At jour age, 
the first of all virtues is confidence and docility 
towards your relations. I am therefore obliged 
to tell you that I prefer your tranquil attach- 
ment to your misplaced warmth. This, how- 
ever, does not prevent me from embracing you, 
but less tenderly than I shall do when I learn 
that you have returned to your aunt." 

On the evening of the 24th of July M. de 
Beauharnais received the announcement in his 
cell, that with the dawn of the next morning 
he was to be led to the guillotine. Under 
these circumstances he wrote the following 
farewell letter to his wife : 

"I have yet a few minutes to devote to af- 
fection, tears, and regret, and then I must whol- 
ly give mj^self up to the glory of my fate and 
to thoughts of immortality. When you re- 
ceive this letter, my dear Josephine, your hus- 



1794.] Parentage and Birth. 43 

Letter from Beauharnais. 

band will have ceased to live, and will be tast- 
ing true existence in the bosom of his Creator. 
Do not weep for him. The wicked and sense- 
less beings who survive him are more worthy 
of your tears, for they are doing mischief which 
they can never repair. But let us not cloud 
the present moments by any thoughts of their 
guilt. I wish, on the contrarj^, to brighten 
tliese hours by the reflection that I have enjoy- 
ed the affection of a lovely woman, and that 
our union would have been an uninterrupted 
course of happiness, but for errors which I was 
too late to acknowledge and atone for. This 
thought wrings tears from rny eyes, though 
your generous heart pardons me. But this is 
no time to revive the recollection of my errors 
and of your wrongs. What thanks I owe to 
Providence, who will reward you. 

'' That Providence disposes of me before my 
time. This is another blessing, for which I am 
grateful. Can a virtuous man live happy when 
he sees the whole world a prey to the wicked ? 
I should rejoice in being taken away, were it 
not for the thought of leaving those I love be- 
hind me. But if the thoughts of the dying are 
presentiments, something in my heart tells me 
that these horrible butcheries are drawing to a 
close; that the executioners will, in their turn, 



44 IIOR TENSE. [1794. 

i 

Letter from Beauharnais. 

become victims ; that the arts and sciences will 
again flourish in France; that wise and mode- 
rate laws will take the place of cruel sacrifices, 
and that you will at length enjoy the happiness 
which you have deserved. Our children will 
discharge the debt for their father. 

* -Ji- * * -s^- * 

" I resume these incoherent and almost il- 
legible lines, which were interrupted by the en- 
trance of my jailer. I have submitted to a 
cruel ceremony, which, under any other cir- 
cumstances, I would have resisted at the sacri- 
fice of my life. Yet why should we rebel 
against necessity ? Keason tells us to make 
the best of it we can. My hair has been cut 
off. I had some idea of buying a part of it, in 
order to leave to my wife and children an un- 
equivocal pledge of my last recollection of them. 
Alas ! my heart breaks at the very thought, 
and my tears bedew the paper on which I am 
writing. Adieu, all that I love. Think of 
me, and do not forget that to die the victim of 
tyrants and the martyrs of liberty sheds lustre 
on the scaffold." 

Josephine did not receive this letter until 
after her husband's execution. The next af- 
ternoon one of the daily papers was brought 



1794.] Parentage and Birth. 45 

Execution of Beauharnais. 

into the prison of the Carmelites. Josephine 
anxiously ran her eye over the record of the 
executions, and found the name of her hus- 
band in the fatal list. She fell senseless to the 
floor in a long-continued swoon. When con- 
sciousness returned, she exclaimed at first, in 
the delirium of her anguish, " God, let me 
die! let me die! There is no peace for me 
but in the grave." And then again a mother's 
love, as she thought of her orphan children, 
led her to cling to the misery of existence for 
their sake. Soon, however, the unpitying 
agents of the revolutionary tribunal came to 
her with the announcement that in two days 
she was to be led to the Conciergerie, and 
thence to her execution. 

In the following letter Josephine informed 
her children of the death of thfeir father, and 
of her own approaching execution. It is a 
letter highly characteristic of this wonderful 
woman in the attempt, by the assumption of 
calmness, to avoid as far as possible lacerating 
the feelings of Eugene and Hortense. 

" The hand which will deliver this to you 
is faithful and sure. You will receive it from 
a friend who knows and has shared my sor- 
rows. I know not by what accident she has 



46 . HORTENSE. [1794 



Josephine to her children. 



hitherto been spared. I call this accident for- 
tunate ; she regards it as a calamity. 'Is it 
not disgraceful to live,' said she yesterday, 
' when all who are good have the honor of 
dying?' May Heaven, as the reward of her 
courage, refuse her the fatal honor she desires, 

^" As to me, I am qualified for that honor, 
and I am preparing myself for receiving it. 
Why has disease spared me so long? But 1 
must not murmur. As a wifS, I ought to fol- 
low the fate of my husband, and can there now 
be any fate more glorious than to ascend the 
scaffold ? It is a patent of immortality, pur- 
chased by a prompt and pleasing death. 

" My children, your flither is dead, and your 
mother is about to follow him. But as before 
that final stroke the assassins leave me a few 
moments to ^myself, I wish to employ them 
in writing to you. Socrates, when condemned, 
philosophized with his disciples. A mother, 
on the point of undergoing a similar fate, may 
discourse with her children. 

" My last sigh will be for j^ou, and I wish 
to make my last words a lasting lesson. Time 
was, when I gave you lessons in a more pleas- 
ing way. But the present will not be the less 
useful, that it is given at so serious a moment. 



1794.] Parentage and Birth. 47 

Josephine to her children. 

I have the weakness to water it with my tears. 
I shall soon have the courage to seal it with 
my blood. 

"Hitherto it was impossible to be happier 
than I have been. While to my union with 
your father I owed my felicity, I may ven- 
ture to think and to say that to my character 
I was indebted for that union. I found in my 
heart the means of winning the affection of my 
husband's relations. Patience and gentleness 
always succeed in gaining the good-will of 
others. You also, my dear children, possess 
natural advantages which cost little, and are 
of great value. But you must learn how to 
employ them, and that is what I still feel a 
pleasure in teaching you by my example. 

* -if -X- * •«• -JJ- 

"Here I must record the gratitude I owe to 
my excellent brother-in-law, who has, under 
various circumstances, given me proofs of the 
most sincere friendship, though he was of quite 
a different opinion from your father, who em- 
braced the new ideas with all the enthusiasm 
of a livel}^ imagination. He fancied liberty 
was to be secured bv obtaininec concessions 
from the king, whom he venerated. But alb 
was lost, and nothing gained but anarchy. 



48 HORTENSE. [1794. 

Josephine to her children. 

Who will arrest the torrent? O God! unless 
thy powerful hand control and restrain it, we 
are undone. 

"For my part, my children, I am about to 
die, as your father died, a victim of the fury he 
always opposed, but to which he fell a sacri- 
fice. I leave life without hatred of France 
and its assassins, whom I despise. But I am 
penetrated with sorrow for the misfortunes of 
my country. Honor my memory in sharing 
my sentiments. I leave for your inheritance 
the glory of your father and the name of your 
mother, whom some who have been unfortu- 
nate will bear in remembrance." 



1794.] Marriage of Josephine. 49 

Release of Josephine. 



Chapter II. 

The Marriage of Josephine and 
General Bonaparte. 

THE day before Josephine was to be led 
to her execution there was a new revolu- 
tion in Paris. Kobespierre and the party then 
in power were overthrown. From condemn- 
ing others, they were condemned themselves. 
They had sent hundreds, in the cart of the ex- 
ecutioner, to the guillotine. Now it was their 
turn to take that ftital ride, to ascend the steps 
of the scaffold, and to have their own heads 
severed by the keen edge of the knife. Those 
whom they had imprisoned were set at libertj^ 
As Josephine emerged from the gloom of 
her prison into the streets of Paris, she found 
herself a widow, homeless, almost friendless, 
and in the extreme of penury. But for her 
children, life would have been a burden from 
which she w^ould have been glad to be relieved 
by the executioner's axe. The storms of rev- 
olution had dispersed all her friends, and ter- 
4 



50 HOKTENSE. [1794. 

Apprenticeship of Eugene and Ilorteuse. 

ror reigned in Paris. Her cliildren were liv- 
ing upon the charity of others. It was neces- 
sary to conceal their birth as the children of a 
noble, for the brutal threat of Marat ever rang 
in her ears, "We must exterminate ail the 
whelps of aristocracy." 

Hoping to conceal the illustrious lineage of 
Eugene and Hortense, and probably also im- 
pelled by the necessities of poverty, Josephine 
apprenticed her son to a house carpenter, and 
her daughter was placed, with other girls of 
more lowly birth, in the shop of a milliner. 
But Josephine's beauty of person, grace of 
manners, and culture of mind could not leave 
her long in obscurit}'. Every one who met 
her was charmed with her unaffected loveli- 
ness. New friends were created, among them 
some who were in power. Through their inter- 
position, a portion of her husband's confiscated 
estates was restored to her. She was thus pro- 
vided with means of a frugal support for her- 
self and her children. Engaging humble 
apartments, she devoted herself entirely to 
their education. Both of the children were 
richly endowed; inheriting from their mother 
and their father talents,- personal loveliness, 
and an instinctive power of attrnc tion. Thus 



1794.] Marriage of Josephine. 61 

Napoleon Bonaparte. 

there came a brief lull in those dreadful storms 
of life by which Josephine had been so long 
buffeted. 

But suddenly, like the transformations of 
the kaleidoscope, there came another and a 
marvellous change. All are familiar with the 
circumstances of her marriage to the young 
and rising general, Napoleon Bonaparte. This 
remarkable young man, enjoying the renown of 
having captured Toulon, and of having quell- 
ed a very formidable insurrection in the streets 
of Paris, was ordered by the then existing Gov- 
ernment to disarm the whole Parisian popula- 
tion, that there might be no further attempt at 
insurrection. The officers who were sent, in 
performance of this duty, from house to house, 
took from Josephine the sword of her husband, 
which she had preserved as a sacred relic. 
The next day Eugene repaired to the head- 
quarters of General Bonaparte to implore that 
the sword of his father might be restored to 
him. The young general was so much im- 
pressed with the grace and beauty of the bo}^, 
and with his artless and touching eloquence, 
that he made many inquiries respecting his 
parentage, treated him with marked tender- 
ness, and promptly restored the sword. Jo- 



52 HOKTENSE. [1795. 



Josephine aud Napoleon. 



sephine was so grateful for the kindness of 
General Bonaparte to Eugene, that the next 
day she drove to his quarters to express a 
mother's thanks. General Bonaparte was even 
more deeply impressed with the grace and 
loveliness of the mother than he had been 
with the child. He sought her acquaintance; 
this led to intimacy, to love, and to the proffer 
of marriage. 

In the following letter to a friend Josephine 
expressed her views in reference to her mar- 
riage with General Bonaparte : 

" I am urged, my dear, to marry again by 
the advice of all my friends, and I may almost 
say, by the commands of my aunt and the 
prayers of my children. Why are you not 
here to help me by your advice, and to tell me 
whether I ought or not to consent to a union 
which certainly seems calculated to relieve me 
from the discomforts of my present situation? 
Your friendship would render you clear-sighted 
to my interests, and a word from you would 
suffice to bring me to a decision. 

"Among my visitors you have seen General 
Bonaparte. He is the man who wishes to be- 
come a father to the orphans of Alexander de 
Beauharnais, and husband to his widow. 



1795.] Marriage of Josephine. 53 



Josephine to her aunt. 



'"Do you. love him?' is naturally your first 
question. My answer is perhaps 'no.' 'Do 
you dislike him?' 'No,' again. But the sen- 
timents I entertain towards him are of that 
lukewarm kind which true devotees think worst 
of all, in matters of religion. Now love being 
a sort of religion, my feelings ought to be very 
different from what they really are. This is 
the point on which I want your advice, which 
would fix the wavering of my irresolute dispo- 
sition. To come to a decision has always been 
too much for my Creole inertness, and I find 
it easier to obey the wishes of others. 

" I admire the general's courage, the extent 
of his information on every subject on which 
he converses ; his shrewd intelligence, which 
enables him to understand the thoughts of oth- 
ers before they are expressed. But I confess 
that I am somewhat fearful of that control 
which he seems anxious to exercise over all 
about him. There is something in his scruti- 
nizing glance that can not be described. It 
awes even our Directors. Therefore it may 
well be supposed to intimidate a woman. He 
talks of his passion for me with a degree of 
earnestness which renders it impossible to 
doubt his sincerity. Yet this very circum- 



51 HORTENSE. [1795. 



Joaephiue to her aunt. 



Stance, which you would suppose likely to 
please me, is precisely that which lias withheld 
me from giving the consent which I have often 
been upon the point of uttering. 

'* My spring of life is past. Can I then hope 
to preserve for any length of time that ardor 
of aftection which in the sreneral amounts al- 

o 

most to madness? If his love should cool, as 
it certainly will after our marriage, will he not 
reproach me for having prevented him from 
forming a more advantageous connection ? 
What, then, shall I say ? What shall I do ? I 
may shut myself up and weep. Fine consola^ 
tion truly, methinks I hear you say. But una- 
vailing as I know it is, weeping is, I assure you, 
my only consolation whenever my poor heart 
receives a wound. Write to me quickly, and 
pray scold me if you think me wrong. You 
know every thing is welcome that comes from 
you. 

" Barras* assures me that if I marry the gen- 
eral, he will get him appointed commander-in- 
chief of the Army of Italy. This favor, though 
not yet granted,- occasions some murmuring 
among Bonaparte's brother - of&cers. W^hen 

* Barras, a leading member of the Directory, and a strong 
friend of General Bonaparte. 



1795.] Marriage of Josephine. 55 

Josephine to her aunt. 

speaking to me on the subject yesterday, Gen- 
eral Bonaparte said : 

" ' Do they think that I can not get forward 
without their patronage? One day or other 
they will all be too happy if I grant them 
mine. I have a good sword by my side, which 
will carry me on.' 

" What do you tliiidc of this self-confidence? 
Does it not savor of excessive vanity? A 
general of brigade to talk of patronizing the 
chiefs of Government? It is very ridiculous. 
Yt't I know not how it happens, his ambitious 
spirit sometimes wins upon me so far that I 
am almost tempted to believe in the prnctic;;- 
bility of any project he takes into his head ; 
and who can foresee what he may attempt? 

" Madame TalHen desires me to present her 
love to yon. She is still fair and good as ever. 
She employs her immense influence only for 
the benefit of the unfortunate. And when she 
performs a favor, she appears as pleased and 
satisfied as though she herself were the obliged 
part}^ Her friendship for me is most affec- 
tionate and sincere. And of my regard for her 
I need only say that it is equal to that which I 
entertain for you. 

''•Hortense grows more and more interesting 



56 HORTENSE. [1796. 



Marriage of Josephine. 



every day. Her pretty figure is fully devel- 
oped, and, if I were so inclined, I should have 
ample reason to rail at Time, who confers 
charms on the daughter at the expense of the 
mother. But truly I have other things to 
think of. I try to banish gloomy thoughts, 
and look forward to a more propitious future, 
for we shall soon meet, never to part again. 

"But for this marriage, which harasses and 
unsettles me, I could De cheerful in spite of 
every thing. Were it once over, happen what 
might, I could resign myself to my fate. I am 
inured to suffering, and, if I be destined to taste 
fresh sorrow, I can support it, provided my 
children, my aunt, and you remain to comfort 
me. 

" You know we have agreed to dispense 
with all formal terminations to our letters. So 
adieu, my friend, 

" Josephine." 

In March, 1796, Josephine became the bride 
of Napoleon Bonaparte, then the most promis- 
ing young general in France, and destined to 
become, in achievements and renown, the fore- 
most man in all the world. Eugene was imme- 
diately taken into the service of his stepfather. 



1796.] Marriage of Josephine. 



0/ 



Letter to Eugene. 



Ill the following letter to Eugene we have a 
pleasing revelation of the character of Hor- 
tense at that time, and of the affectionate rela- 
tions existing between the mother and her 
children : 

" I learn with pleasure, my dear Eugene, 
that your conduct is worthy of the name you -^ 
bear, and of the protector under whom it is so 
easy to learn to become a great captain. Bo- 
naparte has written to me that you ai'e every 
thing that he can wish. As he is no flatterer, 
my heart is proud to read your eulogy sketch- 
ed by a hand which is usually far from being 
lavish in praise. You well know that I never 
doubted your capability to undertake great 
things, or the brilhant courage which you in- 
herit. But you, alas! know how much I dis- 
like your removal from me, fearing that your 
natural impetuosity might carry you too far, 
and that it might prevent you from submitting 
to the numerous petty details of discipline 
which must be very disagreeable when the 
rank is only subaltern. 

"Judge, then, of my joy on learning that 
you remember my advice, and that you are as 
obedient to your superioi-s in command as you 
are kind and humane to those beneath you. 



58 HORTENSE. [1796. 



Letter to Eugene. 



This conduct, my child, makes me quite happy,. 
and these words, I know, will reward you more 
than all the favors you can receive. Head them 
often, and repeat to yourself that your mother, 
though far from you, complains not of her lot, 
since she knows that yours will be brilliant, 
and will deserve so to be. 

" Your sister shares all my feelings, and will 
tell you so herself But that of which I am 
sure she will not speak, and which is therefore 
my duty to tell, is her attention to me and her 
aunt. Love her, my son, for to me she brings 
consolation, and she overflows with affection 
for you. She prosecutes her studies with un- 
common success, but music, I think, will be the 
art she will carry to the highest perfection. 
With her sweet voice, which is now well culti- 
vated, she sings romances in a manner that 
would surprise you. I have just bought her a 
new piano from the best maker, Erard, which 
redoubles her passion for that charming art 
which 3^ou prefer to every other. That per- 
haps accounts for your sister applying to it 
with so much assiduit}^ 

" Were you here, you would be telling me 
a thousand times a day to bew^are of the men 
who pay particular attention to Hortense. 



1796.] Marriage of Josephine. 69 



Rising greatness of Napoleon. 



Some there are who do so whom you do not 
like, and whom you seem to fear she may pre- 
fer. Set your mind at rest. She is a bit of a 
coquette, is pleased with her success, and tor- 
ments her victims, but her heart is free. I am 
the confidante of all her thoughts and feelings, 
which have hitherto been just what they ought 
to be. She now knows that w^hen she thinks 
of marrying, it is not my consent alone she has 
to seek, and that my will is subordinate to that 
of the man to whom we owe every thing. The 
knowledge of this fact must prevent her from 
fixing her choice in a way that may not meet 
the approval of Bonaparte, and the latter will 
not give your sister in marriage to any one to 
whom you can object." 

There was now an end to poverty and ob- 
scurity. The rise of Napoleon was so brilliant 
and rapid that Josephine was speedily placed 
at the head of society in Paris, and vast crow^ds 
were eager to do her homage. Never before 
did man move with strides so rapid. The 
lapse of a few months transformed her from al- 
most a homeless, friendless, impoverished w^id- 
ow, to be the bride of one whose advancing 
greatness seemed to outvie the wildest creations 
of fiction. The unsurpassed splendor of Napo- 



60 HORTENSE. [1797. 



Expedition to Egypt. 



leon's achievements crowded the saloons of 
Josephine with statesmen, philosophers, gener- 
als, and all who ever hasten to the shrine of 
rising greatness. 

After the campaign of Italy, which gave Na- 
poleon not only a French but a European rep- 
utation for military genius and diplomatic skill. 
he took command of the Army of Egypt. Jo- 
sephine accompanied him to Toulon. Stand- 
ing upon a balcony, she with tearful eyes 
watched the receding fleet which bore her 
husband to that far-distant land, until it disap- 
peared beneath the horizon of the blue Medi- 
terranean. Eugene accompanied* his father. 
Hortense remained with her mother, who took 
up her residence most of the time during her 
husband's absence at Plombi^res, a celebrated 
watering-place. 

Josephine, anxious in every possible way to 
promote the popularity of her absent husband, 
and thus to secure his advancement, received 
with cordiality all who came to her with their 
congratulations. She was endowed wnth mar- 
vellous power of pleasing. Every one who 
saw her was charmed with her. Hortense was 
bewitchingly beautiful and attractive. 

Josephine had ample means to indulge her 



1797.] Marriage of Josephine. 61 



Letter to Bonaparte. 



taste in entertainments, and was qualified emi- 
nently to shine in such scenes. The conse- 
quence was that her saloons were the constant 
resort of rank and wealth and fashion. Some 
enemy wrote to Napoleon, and roused his jeal- 
ousy to a very high degree, by representing 
Josephine as forgetting her husband, immersed 
in pleasure, and coquetting with all the world. 

Napoleon was exceedingly disturbed, and 
wrote Josephine a very severe letter. The fol- 
lowing extract from her reply fully explains 
the nature of this momentary estrangement: 

" Is it possible, general, that the letter I have 
just received comes from you ? I can scarcely 
credit it when I compare that letter with others 
to which your love imparts so many charms. 
My eyes, indeed, would persuade me that your 
hands traced these lines, but my heart refuses 
to believe that a letter from you could ever 
have caused the mortal anguish I experience 
on perusing these expressions of your displeas- 
ure, which afflict me the more when I consider 
how much pain they must have caused you. 

" I know not what I have done to provoke 
some malignant enemy to destroy my peace 
by disturbing yours. But certainly a power- 
ful motive must influence some one in continu- 



62 HORTENSE. [1797. 



Letter to Bonaparte. 



ally renewing calumnies against me, and giv- 
ing them a sufficient appearance of probability 
to impose on the man who has hitherto judged 
me worthy of his affection and confidence. 
These two sentiments are necessary to my hap- 
piness. And if they are to be so soon with- 
drawn from me, I can only regret that I was 
ev^er blest in possessing them or knowing you. 

"On my first acquaintance w^ith you, the af- 
fliction with which I was overwhelmed led me 
to believe that my heart must ever remain a 
stranger to any sentiment resembling love. 
The sanguinary scenes of which I had been a 
witness and a victim constantly haunted my 
thoughts. I therefore apprehended no danger 
to myself from the frequent enjoyment of your 
society. Still less did I imagine that I could 
for a single moment fix your choice. 

"I, like every one else, admired your talents 
and acquirements. And better than any one 
else I foresaw your future glory. But still I 
loved you only for the services you rendered 
to my country. Why did you seek to convert 
admiration into a more tender sentiment, by 
availing yourself of all those powers of pleas- 
ing with which you are so eminently gifted, 
since, so shortly after having united your des- 



1797.] Marriage of Josephine. 63 

Letter to Bonaparte. 

tiny with mine, you regret the felicit}^ you 
have conferred upon me? 

'' Do you think I can ever forget the love 
with which you once cherished me? Can I 
ever become indifferent to the man who has 
blest me with the most enthusiastic and ardent 
passion ? Can I ever efface from my memory 
your paternal affection for Hortense, the advice 
and example you have given Eugene? If all 
tliis appears impossible, how can you, for a mo- 
ment, suspect me of bestowing a thought upon 
any but yourself? 

"Instead of listening to traducers, who, for 
reasons which I can not explain, seek to disturb 
our happiness, why do you not silence them by 
enumerating the benefits you have bestowed 
on a woman whose heart could never be reach- 
ed with ingratitude? The knowledge of what 
you have done for my children would check 
the malignity of these calumniators ; for they 
would then see that the strongest link of my 
attachment for you depends on my character 
as a mother. Your subsequent conduct, which 
has claimed the admiration of all Europe, could 
have no other effect than to make me adore 
the husband who gave me his hand when I 
was poor and unfortunate. Every step you 



64 HoRTENSE. ri79fe 



Letter to Bonaparte. 



take adds to the glory of the name I bear. 
Yet this is the moment which has been selected 
for persuading you that I no longer love you ! 
Surely nothing can be more wicked and absurd 
than the conduct of those who are about you, 
and are jealous of your marked superiority. 

"Yes, I still love you, and no less tenderly 
than ever. Those who allege the contrary 
know that they speak falsely. To those very 
persons I have frequently written to inquire 
about you, and to recommend them to console 
you, by their friendship, for the absence of her 
who is your best and truest friend. 

" I acknowledge that I see a great deal of 
company ; for every one is eager to compli- 
ment me on 3^our success, and I confess that 1 
have not resolution to close my door against 
those who speak of you. I also confess that a 
great portion of my visitors are gentlemen. 
Men understand your bold projects better than 
women ; and they speak with enthusiasm of 
your glorious achievements, while my female 
friends only complain of you for having carried 
away their husbands, brothers, or fathers. 

" I take no pleasure in their society if they 
do not praise j^ou. Yet there are some among 
them whose hearts and understandings claim 



1798.] Mareiage of Josephine. 65 



Letter to Bonaparte. 



my highest regard, because they entertain sin- 
cere friendship for you. In this number I 
may mention ladies Arqaillon, Tallien, and my 
aunt. They are almost constantly with me* 
and they can tell you, ungrateful as you are, 
whether / have been coquetting with every body. 
These are your words. And they would be 
hateful to me were I not certain that you had 
disavowed them, and are sorry for having writ- 
ten them. 

"I sometimes receive honors here which 
cause me no small degree of embarrassment. 
I am not accustomed to this sort of homage. 
And I see that it is displeasing to our authori- 
ties, who are always suspicious and fearful of 
losing their newly -gotten power. If they are 
envious now, what will they be when you return 
crowned with fresh laurels? Heaven knows to 
what lengths their malignity will then carry 
them. But you will be here, and then noth- 
ing can vex me. 

" But I will say no more of them, nor of 
your suspicions, which I do not refute one by 
one, because they are all equally devoid of 
probability. And to make amends for the un- 
pleasant commencement of this letter, I will tell 
you something which I know will please you. 
5 



66 HORTENSE. [1798. 



Letter to Bonaparte. 



"Hortense, in her efforts to console me, en- 
deavors as far as possible to conceal her anxie- 
ty for you and her brother. And she exerts 
all her ingenuity to banish that melancholy, 
the existence of which you doubt, but which I 
assure you never forsakes me. If by her live- 
ly conversation and interesting talents she 
sometimes succeeds in drawing a smile, she 
joyfully exclaims, ' Dear mamma, that will be 
known at Cairo.' The fatal word immediately 
calls to my mind the distance which separates 
me from you and my son, and restores the mel- 
ancholy which it was intended to divert. I am 
obliged to make great efforts to conceal my 
grief from my daughter, who, by a word or a 
look, transports me to the very place which she 
would wish to banish from my thoughts. 

"Hortense's figure is daily becoming more 
and more graceful. She dresses with great 
taste; and though not quite so handsome as 
your sisters, she may certainly be thought 
agreeable when even they are present. 

*' Heaven knows when or where you may 
receive this letter. May it restore you to that 
confidence which you ought never to have lost, 
and convince you, more than ever, that, long 
as I live, I shall love you as dearly as I did 



1798.] Marriage of Josephine. 67 

Madame Campan. 

on the day of our separation. Adieu. Believe 
me, love me, and receive a thousand kisses. 

" Josephine." 



There was at that time a very celebrated 
female school at St. Germain, under the care 
of Madame Campan. This illustrious lady was 
familiar with all the etiquette of the court, and 
w^as also endowed with a superior mind high- 
ly cultivated. At the early age of fifteen she 
had been appointed reader to the daughter of 
Louis XY. Maria Antoinette took a strong 
fancy to her, and made her a friend and com- 
panion. The crumbling of the throne of the 
Bourbons and the dispersion of the court left 
Madame Campan without a home, and caused 
what the world would call her ruin. 

But in the view of true intelligence this re- 
verse of fortune only elevated her to a far 
higher position of responsibility, usefulness, 
and power. Impelled by necessit}^, she open- 
ed a boarding-school for young ladies at St. 
Germain. The school soon acquired celebrity. 
Almost every illustrious family in France 
sought to place their daughters under her care. 
She thus educated very many young ladies 
who subsequently occupied very important 



HORTENSE. [1799. 



School-girl days. 



positions in society as the wives and mothera 
of distinguished men. Some of her pupils at- 
tained to royalty. Thus the boarding-school 
of Madame Campan became a great power in 
France. 

Hortense was sent to this school with Napo- 
leon's sister Caroline, who subsequently be- 
came Queen of Naples, and with Stephanie 
Beauharnais, to whom we shall have occasion 
hereafter to refer as Duchess of Baden. Ste- 
phanie was a cousin of Hortense, being a 
daughter of her father's brother, the Marquis 
de Beauharnais! 

In this school Hortense formed many very 
strong attachments. Her most intimate friend, 
however, whom she loved with affection which 
never waned, was a niece of Madame Campan, 
by the name of Adele Aguie, afterwards Ma- 
dame de Broc, whose sad fate, hereafter to be 
described, was one of the heaviest blows which 
fell upon Hortense. It would seem that Hor- 
tense was not at all injured by the flattery lav- 
ished upon her in consequence of the renown 
of her father. She retained, unchanged, all 
her native simplicity of character, which she 
had inherited from her mother, and which she 
ever saw illustrated in her mother's words and 



1799.] Marriage of Josephine. 69 

Letter from Josephine. 

actions. Treating the humblest with the same 
kindness as the most exalted, she won all 
hearts, and made herself the friend of every 
one in the school. 

But her cousin Stephanie was a very differ- 
ent character. Her father, the Marquis, had 
fled from France an emigrant. He was an 
aristocrat by birth, and in all his cherished sen- 
timents. In his flight with the nobles, from 
the terrors of the revolution, he had left his 
daughter behind, as the protegee of* Josephine. 
Inheriting a haughty disposition, and elated 
by the grandeur which her uncle was attain- 
ing, she assumed consequential airs which ren- 
dered her disagreeable to many of her com- 
panions. The eagle eye of Josephine detected 
these faults in the character of her niece. As 
Stephanie returned to school from one of her 
vacations, Josephine sent b}^ her the following 
letter to Madame Campan : 

"In returning to you my niece, my dear 
Madame Campan, I send you both thanks and 
reproof: — thanks for the brilliant education 
you have given her, and reproof for the faults 
which your acuteness must have noticed, but 
which your indulgence has passed over. She 
is good-tempered, but cold ; well-informed, but 



70 HORTENSE. [1799. 



Napoleon's return from Egypt. 



disdainful ; lively, bat deficient in judgment. 
She pleases no one, and it gives her no pain. 
She fancies the renown of her uncle and the 
gallantry of her father are every thing. Teach 
her, but teach her plainly, without mincing, 
that in reality they are nothing. 

"We live in an age when every one is the 
child of his own deeds. And if they who fill 
the highest ranks of public service enjoy any 
superior advantage or privilege, it is the op- 
portunity to be more useful and more beloved. 
It is thus alone that good fortune becomes par- 
donable in the eyes of the envious. This is 
what I would have you repeat to her constant- 
ly. I wish her to treat all her companions as 
her equals. Many of them are better, or at 
least quite as deserving as she is herself, and 
their only inferiority is in not having had re- 
lations equally skillful or equally fortunate. 
"Josephine Bonaparte." 

On the 8th of October, 1799, Napoleon land- 
ed at Frejus, on his return from Egypt. His 
mind was still very much disturbed with the 
reports which had reached him respecting Jo- 
sephine. Frejus was six hundred miles from 
Paris — a long journey, when railroads were 



1799.] Mareiage of Josephine. 71 

Josephine's anguish. 

unknown. The intelligence of his arrival was 
promptly communicated to the metropolis by 
telegraph. Josephine received the news at 
midnight. Without an hour's delay she enter- 
ed her carriage with Hortense, taking as a pro- 
tector Napoleon's younger brother Louis, who 
subsequently married Hortense, and set out to 
meet her husband. Almost at the same hour 
Napoleon left Frejus for Paris. 

When Josephine reached Lyons, a distance 
of two hundred and forty-two miles from Paris, 
she learned, to her consternation, that Napoleon 
had left the city several hours before her arri- 
val, and that they had passed each other by 
different roads. Her anguish was dreadful. 
For many months she had not received a line 
from her husband, as all communication had 
been intercepted by the British cruisers. She 
knew that her enemies would be busy in poi- 
soning the mind of her husband against her. 
She had traversed the weary leagues of her 
journey without a moment's intermission, and 
now, faint, exhausted, and despairing, she was 
to retrace her steps, to reach Paris only many 
hours after Napoleon would have arrived there. 
Probably in all France there was not then a 
more unhappy woman than Josephine. 



72 HORTENSE. [1799. 

Jealousy of Napoleon. 

The mystery of human love and jealousy no 
philosophy can explain. Secret wretchedness 
was gnawing at the heart of Napoleon. He 
loved Josephine witli intensest passion, and all 
the pride of his nature was roused by the con- 
viction that she had trifled with him. With 
these conflicting emotions rending his soul, he 
entered Paris and drove to his dwelling. Jose- 
phine was not there. Even Josephine had 
bitter enemies, as all who are in power ever 
must have. These enemies took advantage of 
her absence to fan the flames of that jealousy 
which Napoleon could not conceal. It was 
represented to him that Josephine had fled 
from her home, afraid to meet the anger of her 
injured husband. As he paced the floor in 
anguish, which led him to forget all his achieve- 
ments in the past and all his hopes for the fu- 
ture, an enemy maliciously remarked, 

"Josephine will soon appear before you 
with all her arts of fascination. She will ex- 
plain matters, you will forgive all, and tran- 
quillity will be restored." 

Napoleon, striding nervousl}^ up and down 
the floor, replied with pallid cheek and trem- 
bling lip, 

" Never ! never ! Were I not sure of my res- 



1799.] Marriage of Josephine. 73 

The meeting in Pari?. 

olution, I would tear out this heart and cast 
it into the fire." 

Eugene bad returned with Napoleon. He 
loved bis mother to adoration. Anxiously 
be sat at the window watcbing, hour after 
bour, for her arrival. At midnight on the 
19th the rattle of her carriage-wheels was 
heard, as she entered the courtyard of their 
dwelling in the Eue Chantereine. Eugene 
rusbed to his mother's arms. Napoleon had 
ever been the most courteous of husbands. 
Wbenever Josephine returned, even from an or- 
dinary morning drive, he would leave any en- 
gagements to greet her as she alighted from her 
carriage. But now, after an absence of eight- 
een months, he remained sternly in bis cbam- 
ber, the victim of almost unearthly misery. 

In a state of terrible agitation, with limbs 
tottering and heart throbbing, Josephine, as- 
sisted by Eugene and accompanied by Hor- 
tense, ascended the stairs to the parlor where 
she had so often received the caresses of her 
husband. She opened the door. Napoleon 
stood before her, pale, motionless as a marble 
statue. Without one kind word of greeting 
he said sternly, in words which pierced her 
heart, 



HORTENSE. [1799. 



The cruel repulse. 



" Madame, it is my wish that you retire im- 
mediately to Malmaison." 

The meek and loving Josephine uttered not 
a word. She w^ould have fallen senseless to 
the floor, had she not been caught in the arms 
of her son. It was midnight. For a week 
she had lived in her carriage almost without 
sleep. She was in a state of utter exhaustion, 
both of body and of mind. It was twelve 
miles to Malmaison. Napoleon had no idea 
that she would leave the house until the morn- 
ing. Much to his surprise, he soon heard the 
carriage in the yard, and Josephine, accompan- 
ied by Eugene and Hortense, descending the 
stairs. The naturally kind heart of Napoleon 
could not assent to such cruelty. Immediately 
going down into the yard, though his pride 
would not permit him to speak to Josephine, 
he addressed Eugene, and requested them all 
to return for refreshment and repose. 

In silent submission, Eugene and Ilortense 
conducted their mother to her apartment, 
where she threw herself upon her couch in ab- 
ject misery. In equally sleepless woe. Napo- 
leon retired to his cabinet. Two days of 
wretchedness passed away. On the third, the 
love for Josephine, which still reigned in the 




THE RECONCrLTATTON 



1799.] Makkiage of Josephine. 77 

The reconciliation. 

heart of Napoleon, so far triumphed that be en- 
tered her apartment. Josephine was seated at 
a toilette- table, with her head bowed, and her 
eyes buried in her handkerchief. The table 
was covered with the letters which she had re- 
ceived from Napoleon, and which she had evi- 
dently been perusing. Hortense, the victim 
of grief and despair, was standing in the alcove 
of a window. 

Apparently Josephine did not hear the ap- 
proaching footsteps of her husband. lie ad- 
vanced softly to her chair, placed his hand 
upon it, and said, in tones almost of wonted 
kindness, "Josephine." She started at the 
sound of that well-known and dearly-loved 
voice, and turning towards him her swollen 
and flooded eyes, responded, " My dear." The 
words of tenderness, the loving voice, brought 
back with resistless rush the memory of the 
past. Napoleon was vanquished. He extend- 
ed his hand to Josephine. She rose, threw her 
arms around his neck, rested her throbbing, 
aching head upon his bosom, and wept in con- 
vulsions of anguish. A long explanation en- 
sued. Napoleon again pressed Josephine to 
his loving heart, satisfied, perfectly satisfied 
that he had deeply wronged her ; that she had 



HORTEKSE. [1799. 



Napoleon First Consul. 



been the victim of base traducers. The rec- 
onciliation was perfect. 

Soon after this Napoleon overthrew the Di- 
rectory, and established the Consulate. This 
was on the ninth of November, 1799, usually 
called 18th Brumaire. Napoleon was thirty 
years of age, and was now First Consul of 
France. After the wonderful achievements of 
this day of peril, during which Napoleon had 
not been able to send a single line to his wife, 
at four o'clock in the morning he alighted from 
his carriage at the door of his dwelling at the 
Rue Chantereine. Josephine, in a state of 
great anxiety, was watching at the window for 
his approach. She sprang to meet him. Na- 
poleon encircled her in his arms, and briefly 
recapitulated the memorable scenes of the day. 
He assured her that since he had taken the 
oath of office, he had not allowed himself to 
speak to a single individual, for he wished the 
beloved voice of his Josephine might be the 
first to congratulate him upon his virtual ac- 
cession to the Empire of France. Throwing 
himself upon a couch for a few moments of 
repose, he exclaimed gayly, "Good-night, my 
Josephine. To-morrow we sleep in the palace 
of the Luxembourg." 



1799.] Marriage of Josephine. 79 

The Luxembourg. 

This renowned palace, with its vast saloons, 
its galleries of art, its garden, is one of the 
most attractive of residences. Napoleon was 
now virtually the monarch of France. Jose- 
phine was a queen, Eugene and Hortense prince 
and princess. Strange must have been the 
emotions of Josephine and her children as, en- 
compassed with regal splendor, they took up 
their residence in the palace. But a few years 
before, Josephine, in poverty, friendlessness, 
and^ntensest anguish of heart, had led her chil- 
dren by the hand through those halls to visit 
her imprisoned husband. From one of those 
apartments the husband and father had been 
led to his trial, and to the scaffold, and now this 
mother enters this palace virtually a queen, 
and her children have opening before tbem the 
very highest positions of earthly wealth and 
honor. 



80 HORTENSE. [1799. 



Calumnies. 



Chapter III. 

HORTENSE AND DUROC. 

IT is a very unamiable trait in human nature, 
that many persons are more eager to believe 
that which is bad in the character of others than 
that which is good. The same voice of calum- 
ny, which has so mercilessly assailed Josephine, 
has also traduced Hortense. It is painful to 
witness the readiness with which even now the 
vilest slanders, devoid of all evidence, can be 
heaped upon a noble and virtuous woman who 
is in her grave. 

In the days of Napoleon's power, he himself, 
his mother, his wife, his sisters, and his step- 
daughter, Hortense, were assailed with the most 
envenomed accusations malice could engender. 
These infamous assaults, which generally origi- 
nated with the British Tory press, still have 
lingering echoes throughout the world. There 
are those who seem to consider it no crime to 
utter the most atrocious accusations, even with- 
out a shadow of proof, against those w^ho are 
not living. Well do the " Berkeley men " say : 



1799.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 81 

Testimony of the Berkeley men. 

"The Boiiapartes, especially the women of 
that family, have always been too proud and 
haughty to degrade themselves. Even had 
they lacked what is technically called moral 
character, their virtue has been intrenched be- 
hind their ancestry, and the achievements of 
their own family. IS^or was there at any time 
an instant when any one of the Bonapartes could 
have overstepped, by a hair's-breadth, the line 
of decency, without being fatally exposed. 
None of them pursued the noiseless tenor of 
their way along the vale of obscurity. They 
were walking in the clear sunshine, on the top- 
most summits of the earth, and millions of ene- 
mies were watching every step they took. The 
highest genius of historians, the bitterest satire 
of dramatists, the meanest and most malig- 
nant pen of the journalists have assailed them 
for half a centur3^ We have written these 
words because a Kepublican is the only man 
likely to speak well of the Bonaparte famil3^ 
It was, and is, and will be the dynasty of the 
people, standing there from 1804, a fearful an- 
tagonism against the feudal age and its souve- 
nirs of oppression and crime." 

ISTapoleon at St. Helena said : "Of all the 
libels and pamphlets with which the Engiisli 
6 



82 HORTENSE. [1799. 



Remarks of Napoleon at St. Helena. 



ministers have inundated Europe, there is not 
one which will reach posterit}^ When there 
shall not be a trace of those libels to be found, 
the great monuments of utility which I have 
reared, and the code of laws which I have 
formed, will descend to the remotest ages ; and 
future historians will avenge the wrongs done 
me by my contemporaries. There was a time 
when all crimes seemed to belong to me of 
right. Thus I poisoned Hoche, strangled Pi- 
chegru in his cell, I caused Kleber to be assassi- 
nated in Egypt, I blew out Desaix's brains at 
Marengo, I cut the throats of persons who were 
confined in prison, I dragged the Pope by the 
hair of his head, and a hundred similar abomi- 
nations. And yet I have not seen one of those 
libels which is worthy of an answer. These are 
so contemptible and so absurdly false, that they 
do not merit any other notice than to write 
false^ false, on every page." 

It is well known, by every one acquainted 
with the past history of our country, that George 
Washington was assailed in the severest possi- 
ble language of vituperation. He was charged 
with military inability, administrative incapac- 
ity, mental weakness, and gross personal im- 
morality. He was denounced as a murderer, 



1799,J HORTENSji AND DUROC. 83 



The voice of slander. 



and a hoary-headed traitor. This is the doom 
of those in power. And thousands of men in 
those days believed those charges. 

It is seldom possible to prove a negative. 
But no evidence has ever been brought forward 
to substantiate the rumors brought against Hor- 
tense. These vile slanderers have even gone 
so far as to accuse Napoleon of crimes, in refer- 
ence to the daughter of Josephine and the wife 
of his brother, which, if true, should consign 
him to eternal infamy. The " Berkeley men," 
after making the most thorough historic inves- 
tigations in writing the life both of Louis Bo- 
naparte and Hortense, say : 

" Louis was a little over twenty-three years 
of age at the time of his marriage. Hortense 
was nineteen. In his memoirs Louis treats with 
Bcorn and contempt the absurd libels respecting 
his domestic affairs, involving the purity of his 
wife's character and the legitimacy of his chil- 
dren. Napoleon, also, in his conversations at 
St. Helena, thought proper to allude to the sub- 
ject, and indignantly to repel the charges which 
had been made against Hortense, at the same 
time showing the entire improbability of the 
stories about her and her offspring. We have 
found nothing, in our investigations on this sub- 



84 HORTENSE. [1799. 

Testimony of the Duchess of Abrantes. 

J€ct^ to justify even a suspicion against the morals 
or integrity of Louis or Hor tense ; and we here 
dismiss the subject with the remark that there is 
more cause for sympathy tvith the parties to this 
unhappy union than of censure for their con- 
ducts 

The Duchess of Abrantes, who was intimate- 
ly acquainted with Hortense from her child- 
hood and with the whole Bonaparte family, in 
her interesting memoirs writes: "Hortense de 
Beauharnais was fresh as a rose; and though 
her fair complexion was not relieved by much 
color, she had enough to produce that freshness 
and bloom which was her chief beauty. A 
profusion of light hair played in silky locks 
round her soft and penetrating blue eyes. The 
delicate roundness of her slender figure was set 
off by the elegant carriage of her head. Her 
feet were small and pretty, her hands very 
white, with pink, well-rounded nails. But 
what formed the chief attraction of Hortense 
was the grace and suavity of her manners. 
She was gay, gentle, amiable. She had wit 
which, without the smallest ill-temper, had just 
malice enough to be amusing. A polished 
education had improved her natural talents. 
She drew excellently, sang harmoniously, and 



1799.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 85 

Portrait of Hortenae. 

performed admirably in comedy. In 1800 she 
was a charming young girl. She afterwards 
became one of the most amiable princesses in 
Europe. I have seen many, both in their own 
courts and in Paris, but I have never known 
one who had any pretensions to equal talents. 
Her brother loved her tenderly. The First 
Consul looked upon her as his child. And it 
is only in that country so fertile in the inven- 
tions of scandal, that so foolish an accusation 
could have been imagined, as that any feeling 
less pure than paternal affection actuated his 
conduct towards her. The vile calumny met 
the contempt it mei^ited." 

The testimony of Bourrienne upon this point 
is decisive. Bourrienne had been the private 
secretary of Napoleon, had become his enemy, 
and had joined the Bourbons. Upon the down- 
fall of the Emperor he wrote a very hostile life 
of Kapoleon, being then in the employment of 
the Bourbons. In those envenomed pages, 
Bourrienne says that he has written severely 
enough against Napoleon, to have his word be- 
lieved when he makes any admission in his fa- 
vor. He then writes: 

"Napoleon never cherished for Hortense 
any feeling but a real paternal tenderness. He 



HORTENSE. [1799. 



Testimony of Bouriienne. 



loved her, after bis marriage with her mother, as 
he would have loved his own child. For three 
years at least I was witness to all their most 
private actions. I declare that I never saw any 
thing which could furnish the least ground for 
suspicion or the slightest trace of culpable inti- 
macy. This calumny must be classed with 
those which malice delights to take with the 
character of men who become celebrated ; cal- 
umnies which are adopted lightly and without 
reflection. 

" I freely declare that, did I retain the slight- 
est doubt with regard to this odious charge, I 
would avow it. But it is not true. Napoleon 
is no more. Let his memory be accompanied 
only by that, be it good or bad, which really 
took place. Let not this complaint be made 
against him by the impartial historian. I must 
say, in conclusion, on this delicate subject, that 
Napoleon's principles were rigid in the extreme ; 
and that any fault of the nature charged nei- 
ther entered his mind, nor was in accordance 
with his morals or taste." 

Notwithstanding this abundant testimony, 
and notwithstanding the fact that no contradic- 
tory testimony can be adduced, which any his- 
torian could be pardoned for treating with re« 



1800.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 87 

Napoleon at the Tuileries. 

spect, there are still men to be found who will 
repeat those foul slanders, which ought long 
since to have died away. 

Napoleon remained but two months in the 
palace of the Luxembourg. In the mean time 
the palace of the Tuileries, which had been sack- 
ed by revolutionary mobs, was re-funiished with 
much splendor. In February the Court of the 
Consuls was transferred to the Tuileries. Na- 
poleon had so entirely eclipsed his colleagues 
that he alone was thought of by the Parisian 
populace. The royal apartments were prepared 
for Napoleon. The more humble apartments, 
in the Pavilion of Flora, were assigned to the 
two other consuls. The transfer from the Lux- 
embourg was made with great pomp, in one of 
those brilliant parades which ever delight the 
eyes of the Parisians. Six thousand picked 
soldiers, with a gorgeous train of officers, form- 
ed his escort. Twenty thousand troops with 
all the concomitants of military parade, lined 
the streets. A throng, from city and country, 
which could not be numbered, gazed upon the 
scene. Napoleon took his seat in a magnificent 
carriage drawn by six beautiful white horses. 
The suite of rooms assigned to Josephine con- 
sisted of two large parlors furnished with ref^al 



88 IIORTENSE. [1800. 



lieuiity of Josopliino. 



splendor, and several adjoining private rooms. 
Here Ilortense, a beautiful girl of about eighteen, 
fcunul herself at home in the apartments of the 
ancient kings of Ki-anee. 

In tlie evening a brilHant assembly was 
gathered in the saloons of Josephine. As she 
entered, with queenly graee, leaning upon the 
arm of Talleyrand, a murmur of admiration 
rose from the whole multitude. She wore a 
robe of white muslin. Ilerhair fell in rini'lets 
upon her neck and shoulders, througli which 
gleamed a necklace of priceless pearls. The 
festivities were protracted until a late hour in 
the morning. It was said that Josephine gain- 
ed a social victory that evening, corresponding 
with that which Napoleon had gained in the 
pageant of the day. In these scenes Ilortense 
shone with great brilliance. She was young, 
beautiful, graceful, amiable, witty, and very 
highly accomplished. In addition to this, she 
was the sti^pdaughter of the First Consul, who 
was ascending in a career of grandeur wdiich 
was to terminate no one could toll where. 

During Nn^tolcc^n's absence in Egypt Jose- 
l^hino had jnirchascd the beautiful estate of 
Malmaison. This was tlieir favorite home. 
The chateau was a very convenient, attractive, 



rv 



1800.] IIORTENSE AND DUROC. 89 

MalmaiBon. 

but not very spacious rural edifice, surrounded 
with extensivegrounds, ornamented with lawns, 
shrubbery, and forest-trees. With the Tuile- 
ries for her city residence, Malmaison for her 
rural retreat, Napoleon for her father, Jose- 
|)liine for her mother, Eugene for her brother; 
with the richest endowments of person, mind, 
and heart, with glowing health, and surrounded 
by admirers, lloi'tense seemed now to be placed 
upon the very highest pinnacle of earthly hap- 
piness. 

Josephine and Hortense resided atMalmaison 
when Napoleon made his ten months' campaign 
into Italy, which was terminated by the victory 
of Marengo. They both busily employed their 
time in making those improvements on the 
place which would create a pleasant surprise for 
Napoleon on his return. Here they opened a 
new path through the forest ; here they spanned 
a stream with a beautiful rustic bridge ; upon 
a gentle eminence a pavilion rose; and new 
parterres of flowers gladdened the eye. Every 
charm was thrown around the place which the 
genius and taste of Josephine and Hortense 
could suggest. At midnight, on the second of 
July, Napoleon returned to Paris, and immedi- 
ately hastened to the arms of his wife and 



90 HORTENSE. [1800. 



Remarkable testimony of Napoleon. 



daughter at Malmaisoii. He was so pleased 
with its retirement and rural beauty that, for- 
getting the splendors of Fontainebleau and 
Saint Cloud, he ever after made it his favorite 
residence. Fortunate is the tourist who can 
obtain permission to saunter through those 
lovely walks, where the father, the wife, and 
the daughter, for a few brief months, walked 
almost daily, arm in arm, in the enjoyment of 
nearly all the happiness which they were des- 
tined on earth to share. The Emperor, at the 
close of his career, said upon his dying bed at 
St. Helena, 

" I am indebted for all the little happiness 
I have enjoyed on earth to the love of Jose- 
phine." 

Hortense and her mother frequently rode on 
horseback, both being very graceful riders, and 
very fond of that recreation. At moments 
when Napoleon could unbend from the cares 
of state, the family amused themselves, with 
such guests as were present, in the game of 
''prisoners" on the lawn. For several years 
this continued to be the favorite pastime at 
Malmaison. Kings and queens were often 
seen among the pursuers and the pursued on 
the green sward. 



1800.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 91 

The infernal machine. 

It was observed that Napoleon was always 
solicitous to have Josephine on his side. And 
whenever, in the progress of the game, she was 
taken prisoner, he was nervously anxious until 
she was rescued. Napoleon, who had almost 
lived upon horseback, was a poor runner, and 
would often, in his eagerness, fall, rolling head- 
long over the grass, raising shouts of laughter. 
Josephine and Hortense were as agile as they 
were graceful. 

On the 24th of December, 1800, Napoleon, 
Josephine, and Hortense were going to the op- 
era, to hear Haydn's Oratorio of the Creation. 
It was then to be performed for the first time. 
Napoleon, busily engaged in business, went 
reluctantly at the earnest solicitation of Jose- 
phine. Three gentlemen rode with Napole- 
on in his carriage. Josephine, with Hortense 
and other friends, followed in her private car- 
riage. As the carriages were passing through 
the narrow street of St. Nicaire, a tremendous 
explosion took place, which was heard all over 
Paris. An infernal machine, of immense 
power, had been conveyed to the spot, con- 
cealed beneath a cart, which was intended, at 
whatever sacrifice of the lives of others, to ren- 
der the assassination of the First Consul certain. 



92 HORTENSE. [1800. 



The loyalist conspiracy. 



Eight persons were instantly killed ; more than 
sixty were wounded. Several buildings were 
nearly demolished. The windows of both car- 
riages were dashed in, and the shattered vehi- 
cles were tossed to and fro like ships in a storm. 
Napoleon almost miraculously escaped unharm- 
ed. Hortense was slightly wounded by the 
broken glass. Still they all heroically went on 
to the opera, where, in view of their providen- 
tial escape, they were received with thunders of 
applause. 

It was at first supposed that the Jacobins 
were the authors of this infamous plot. It was 
afterwards proved to be a conspii-acy of the 
Royalists. Josephine, whose husband had bled 
beneath the slide of the guillotine, and who had 
narrowly escaped the axe herself, with charac- 
teristic humanity forgot the peril to which she 
and her friends had been exposed, in sympathy' 
for those who were to suffer for the crime. The 
criminals were numerous. They were the no- 
bles with whom Josephine had formerly lived 
in terms of closest intimacy. She wrote to 
Fouche, the Minister of Police, in behalf of 
these fiimilies about to be plunged into woe by 
the merited punishment of the conspirators. 
This letter reflects such light upon the charac- 



1800.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 93 

Letter from Josephine. 

ter of Josephine, which character she transmit- 
ted to Hortense, that it claims insertion here. 

" Citizen Minister, — While I yet tremble 
at the frightful event which has just occurred, 
I am disquieted and distressed through fear of 
the punishment necessarily to be inflicted on 
the guilty, who belong, it is said, to families 
with whom I once lived in habits of intercourse. 
I shall be solicited by mothers, sisters, and dis- 
consolate wives, and my heart will be broken 
through my inability to obtain all the mercy 
for which I would plead. 

" I know that the clemency of the First Con' 
sul is great ; his attachment to me extreme. 
But the crime is too dreadful that a terrible ex- 
ample should not be necessary. The chief of 
the Government has not been alone exposed. 
It is that which will render him severe, inflexi- 
ble. I conjure you, therefore, to do all in your 
power to prevent inquiries being pushed too far. 
Do not detect all those persons who may have 
been accomplices in these odious transactions. 
Let not France, so long overwhelmed in conster- 
nation by public executions, groan anew beneath 
such inflictions. It is even better to endeavor to 
soothe the public mind than to exasperate men 
by fresh terrors. In short, when the ringlead- 



94 HORTENSE. [1800. 



Letter from Josephine. 



ers of this nefarious attempt shall have been 
secured, let severity give place to pity for in- 
ferior agents, seduced, as they may have been, 
by dangerous falsehoods or exaggerated opin- 
ions. 

"When just invested with supreme power, 
the First Consul, as seems to me, ought rather 
to gain hearts, than to be exhibited as ruling 
slaves. Soften by your counsels whatever may 
be too violent in his just resentment. Punish 
—alas ! that you must certainly do — but par- 
don still more. Be also the support of those 
unfortunate men who, by frank avowal or re- 
pentance, shall expiate a portion of their crime. 

" Having myself narrowly escaped perishing 
in the Ke volution, you miust regard as quite 
natural my interference on behalf of those who 
can be saved without involving in new danger 
the life of my husband, precious to me and to 
France. On this account do, I entreat you, 
make a wide distinction between the authors 
of the crime and those who, through weakness 
or fear, have consented to take part therein. 
As a woman, a wife, a mother, I must feel the 
heart-rendings of those who will apply to me. 
Act, citizen minister, in such a manner that 
the number of these may be lessened. This 



1800.] HORTENSE AND DUEOC. 95 

Michel Diiroc. 

will spare me much grief. Never will I turn 
away from the supplications of misfortune. But 
in the present instance you can do infinitely 
more than I, and you will, on this account, ex- 
cuse my importunity. Rely on my gratitude 
and esteem." 

There was a young officer about twenty-nine 
years of age, by the name of Michel Duroc, 
who was then a frequent visitor at the Tuileries 
and Malmaison. He was a great favorite of 
Napoleon, and was distinguished alike for 
beauty of person and gallantry upon the field 
of battle. Born of an ancient flimily, young 
Duroc, having received a thorough military edu- 
cation, attached himself, with enthusiastic devo- 
tion, to the fortunes of Napoleon. He attracted 
the attention of General Bonaparte during his 
first Italian campaign, where he was appoint- 
ed one of his aids. Following Napoleon to 
Egypt, he gained renown in many battles, and 
was speedily promoted to the rank of chief of 
battalion, and then to general of brigade. At 
Jaffa he performed a deed of gallantrj^, which 
was rewarded by the applauding shouts of 
nearly the whole army. At Jean d'Acre he 
led one of the most bloody and obstinate as- 
saults recorded in the military annals of France, 



96 HORTENSE. [1813. 



General Duroc at Bautzen. 



where he was severely wounded by the burst- 
ing; of a howitzer. At the battle of Aboukir 
he won great applause. Napoleon's attachment 
to this young officer was such, that he took him 
to Paris on his return to Egypt. In the event- 
ful day of the 18th Brumaire, Duroc stood by 
the side of Napoleon, and rendered him em- 
inent service. The subsequent career of this 
very noble young man brilliantly reflects his 
worth and character. Kapidly rising, he be- 
came grand marshal of the palace and Duke of 
Friuli. 

The memorable career of General Duroc was 
terminated at the battle of Bautzen, in Germa- 
ny, on the 23d of May, 1813. He was struck 
by the last ball thrown from the batteries of 
the enemy. The affecting scene of his death 
was as follows : 

"In the early dawn of the morning of the 
23d of May, Napoleon was on horseback direct- 
ing the movements of his troops against the 
routed foe. He soon overtook the rear-guard 
of the enemy, which had strongly posted its 
batteries on an eminence to protect the retreat 
of the discomfited army. A brief but fierce 
conflict ensued, and one of Napoleon's aids was 
struck dead at his feet. Duroc was riding by 



1813.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 97 



Death of Duroc. 



the side of the Emperor. Napoleon turned to 
him and said, ' Daroc, fortune is determined to 
have one of us to-day.' Hour after hour the in- 
cessant battle raged, as the advance-guard of the 
Emperor drove before it the rear-guard of 
the Allies. In the afternoon, as the Emperor, 
with a portion of the Imperial Guard, four 
abreast, was passing through a ravine, envelop- 
ed in a blinding cloud of dust and smoke, a 
cannon-ball, glancing from a tree, killed one 
officer, and mortally wounded Duroc, tearing 
out his entrails. The tumult and obscurity 
were such that Napoleon did not witness the 
casualty. When informed of it, he seemed for 
a moment overwhelmed with grief, and then 
exclaimed, in faltering accents, 

"Duroc! gracious Heaven, my presenti- 
ments never deceive me. This is a sad day, a 
fatal day." 

Immediately alighting from his horse, he 
walked to and fro for a short time absorbed in 
painful thoughts, while the thunders of the bat- 
tle resounded unheeded around him. Then 
turning to Caulaincourt, he said, 

"Alas! when will fate relent? When will 
there be an end of this? My eagles will yet 
triumph, but the happiness which accompanies 
^ 7 



08 HORTENSE. [1813. 

Grief of Napoleon. 

them is fled. Whither has he been conveyed? 
I must see him. Poor, poor Duroc!" 

The Emperor found the dying marshal in a 
cottage, still stretched upon the camp litter by 
which he had been conveyed from the field. 
Pallid as marble from the loss of blood, and 
with features distorted with agony, he was 
scarcely recognizable. The Emperor approach- 
ed the litter, threw his arms around the neck 
of the friend he so tenderly loved, and ex- 
claimed, in tones of deepest grief, "Alas! then 
is there no hope ?" 

" None whatever," the physicians replied. 

The dying man took the hand of Napoleon, 
and gazing upon him affectionately, said, " Sire, 
my whole life has been devoted to your serv- 
ice, and now my only regret is that I can no 
longer be useful to you." Napoleon, in a voice 
almost inarticulate with emotion, said, 

"Duroc, there is another life. There you 
will await me." 

'^ " Yes, sire," the marshal faintly replied, " but 
that will be thirty years hence. You will then 
have triumphed over your enemies, and real- 
ized the hopes of our country. I have lived 
an honest man. I have nothing to reproach 
myself with. I have a daughter, to whom 
your ^^Tajesty will be a father." 



1813.] HOKTENSE AND DUROC. 

Affecting scene. 



Napoleon was so deeply affected that he re- 
mained for some time in silence, incapable of 
uttering a word, but still affectionately holding 
the hand of his dying friend. 

Duroc w^as the first to break the silence. 
" Sire," he said, " this sight pains you. Leave 
me." 

The Emperor pressed his hand to his lips, 
embraced him affectionately, and saying sadly, 
"Adieu, my friend," hurried out of the room. 

Supported by Marshal Soult and Caulain- 
court, Napoleon, overwhelmed with grief, re- 
tired to his tent, which had been immediatel}^ 
pitched in the vicinity of the cottage. "This 
is horrible," he exclaimed. " My excellent, 
m}^ dear Duroc! Oli, what a loss is this!" 

His eyes were flooded with tears, and for the 
moment, forgetting every thing but his grief, 
he retired to the solitude of his inner tent. 

The squares of the Old Guard, sympathizing 
in the anguish of their commander and their 
sovereign, silently encamped around him. Na- 
poleon sat alone in his tent, wrapped in his 
gray great-coat, his forehead resting upon his 
hand, absorbed in painful musings. For some 
time none of his officers were willing to intrude 
upon his grief At length two of the generals 



100 HORTENSE. [1813. 



Quotation fi-om J. T. Headley. 



ventured to consult him respecting arrange- 
ments which it seemed necessary to make for 
the following da}^ Napoleon shook his head 
and replitd, " Ask me nothing till to-morrow," 
and again covering his eyes with his hand, he 
resumed his attitude of meditation. Night 
came. One by one the stars came out. The 
moon rose brilliantly in the cloudless sky. 
The soldiers moved with noiseless footsteps, and 
spoke in subdued tones. The rumbling of 
wagons and the occasional boom of a distant 
gun alone disturbed the stillness of the scene. 

" Those brave soldiers," says J. T. Eeadley, 
" filled with grief to see their beloved chief 
bowed down by such sorrows, stood for a long 
time silent and tearful. At length, to break 
the mournful silence, and to express the sym- 
pathy they might not speak, the band struck 
up a requiem for the dying marshal. The 
melancholy strains arose and fell in prolonged 
echoes over the field, and swept in softened 
cadences on the ear of the fliinting, dying 
warrior. But still Napoleon moved not. They 
changed the measure to a triumphant strain, 
and the thrilling trumpets breathed forth their 
most joyful notes till the heavens rang with the 
melody. Such bursts of music welcomed Ka- 



1804] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 101 

De ith of Duroc. 

poleon as he returned, flushed with victory, till 
his eye kindled with exultation. But now 
they fell on a dull and listless ear. It ceased, 
and again the mournful requiem filled all the 
air. But nothing could rouse him from his ag- 
onizing reflections. His friend lay dying, and 
the heart that he loved more than his life was 
throbbing its last pulsations. What a theme 
for a painter, and what a eulogy was that 
scene! That noble heart, which the enmity of 
the world could not shake, nor the terrors of 
the battle-field move from its calm repose, nor 
even the hatred nor the insults of his at last vic- 
torious enemies humble, here sank in the mo- 
ment of victory before the tide of affection. 
What military chieftain ever mourned thus on 
the field of victory, and what soldiers ever 
loved their leader so 1" 

Before the dawn of the morning Duroc ex- 
pired. When the event was announced to 
Napoleon, he said sadly, "All is over. He is 
released from his misery. Well, he is happier 
than I." The Emperor ordered a monument 
to be reared to his memory, and, when after- 
wards dying at St. Helena, left to the daugh- 
ter of Duroc one of the largest legacies be- 
queathed in his will. That Duroc was worthy 



102 HOKTENSE. [1804. 



Character of Duroc. 



of this warm affection of the Emperor, may be 
inferred from the following testimony of Cau- 
laincourtj Duke of Vicenza : 

" Marshal Daroc was one of those men who 
seem too pure and perfect for this world, and 
whose excellence helps to reconcile us to hu- 
man nature. In the high station to which the 
Emperor had wisely raised him, the grand 
marshal retained all the qualities of the private 
citizen. The splendor of bis position had not 
power to dazzle or corrupt him. Duroc re- 
mained simple, natural, and independent; a 
warm and generous friend, a just and honora- 
ble man. I pronounce on him this eulogy with- 
out fear of contradiction." 

It is not strange that Hortense, a beautiful 
girl of eighteen, should have fallen deeply in 
love with such a young soldier, twenty-nine 
years of age. It would seem that Duroc was 
equally inspired with love and admiration for 
Hortense. Though perhaps not positively en- 
gaged, there was such an understanding be- 
tween the young lovers that a brisk corre- 
spondence was kept up during one of Duroc's 
embassies to the north. 

Bourrienne, at that time the private secreta- 
ry of Napoleon, says that this correspondence 



^, .|gififiii*i!f':,iiiiiiiii!i^ 



jf 



. 'i'X 




THE LOVE-LETTER. 



1804.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 105 

Family complications. 

was carried on by consent through his hands. 
With the rapidly rising greatness of the famil}^, 
there was little retirement to be enjoyed at the 
Tuileries or at Malmaison. The saloons of the 
First Consul were every evening crowded 
with guests. Youthful love is the same pas- 
sion, and the young heart throbs with the same 
impulses, whether in the palace or in the cottage. 
When Bourrienne whispered to Hortense that 
he had a letter for her from Duroc, and slipped 
it unperceived into her hand, she would imme- 
diately retire to her room for its perusal ; and 
the moistened eyes with which she returned to 
the saloon testified to the emotions with which 
the epistle from her lover had been read. 

But Josephine had the strongest reasons 
which can well be imagined for opposing the 
connection with Duroc. She was a very lov- 
ing mother. She wished to do every thing in 
her power to promote the happiness of Hor- 
tense, but she probably was not aware how 
deeply the affections of her daughter were fix- 
ed upon Duroc. Her knowledge of the world 
also taught her that almost every young lady 
and every young gentleman have several loves 
before reaching the one which is consummated 
by marriage. She had another match in view 



106 HORTENSE. [ISO-i. 



The divorce suggested. 



for Hortense which she deemed far more eligi- 
ble for her, and far more promotive of the hap- 
piness of the famil3\ 

Napoleon had already attained grandeur un- 
surpassed by any of the ancient kings of 
France. Visions of still greater power were 
opening before him. It was not only to him 
a bitter disappointment but apparentlj^ it might 
prove a great national calamity that he had no 
heir to whom he could transmit the sceptre 
which France had placed in his hands. Upon 
his downfall, civil war might ravage the king- 
dom, as rival chieftains grasped at the crown. 
It was earnestly urged upon him that the in- 
terests of France imperiously demanded that, 
since he had no prospect of an heir by Jose- 
phine, he should obtain a divorce and marry 
another. It was urged that the welfare of 
thirty millions of people should not be sacri- 
ficed to the inclinations of two individuals. 

Josephine had heard these rumors, and her 
life was embittered by their terrible import. 
A pall of gloom shrouded her skj^, and anguish 
began to gnaw at her heart amidst all the splen- 
dors of the Tuileries and the lovely retirement 
of Malmaison. 

Napoleon's younger brother, Louis, was of 



1804.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 107 

Character of Louiri 15onaparte. 

nearly the same age with Hortense. He was a 
young man of fine personal appearance, very 
intelligent, of scholarly tastes, and of irre- 
proachable character. Though pcusive in tem- 
perament, he had proved himself a hero on the 
field of battle, and he possessed, in all respects, 
a very noble character. Many of the letters 
which he had written fi-om Egypt to his friends 
in Paris had been intercepted by the British 
cruisers, and were published. They all bore 
the impress of the lofty spirit of integrity and 
humanity with which he was inspired. Kapo- 
leon was very fond of his brother Louis. He 
would surely place him in the highest positions 
of wealth and power. As Louis Bonaparte 
was remarkably domestic in his tastes and af- 
fectionate in his disposition, Josephine could 
not doubt that he would make Hortense hap- 
py. Apparently it was a match full of prom, 
ise, brilliant, and in all respects desirable. Ita 
crowning excellence, however, in the eye of 
Josephine was, that should Hort^cnse marry 
Louis Bonaparte and give birth to a son. Na- 
poleon would recognize that child as his heir. 
Bearing the name of Bonaparte, with the blood 
of the Bonapartes in his veins, and being the 
child of Hortense, whom be so tenderly loved 



108 HORTENSE. [1804 



Testimony of Bonnienne. 



as a daughter, the desires of Napoleon and of 
France might be satisfied. Thus the terrible 
divorce might be averted. 

It is not probable that at this time Napoleon 
seriously thought of a divorce, though the air 
was filled with rumors put in circulation by 
those who were endeavoring to crowd him to 
it. He loved Josephine tenderly, and of course 
could not sympathize with her in those fears 
of which it was impossible for her to speak to 
him. Bourrienne testifies that Josephine one 
day said to him in confidence, veiling and at 
the same time revealing her fears, " This pro- 
jected marriage with Daroc leaves me w^ith- 
out support. Duroc, independent of Bona- 
parte's friendship, is nothing. He has neither 
fortune, rank, nor even reputation. He can 
afford me no protection against the enmity of 
the brothers. I must have some more certain 
reliance for the future. My husband loves 
Louis very much. If I can succeed in uniting 
my daughter to him, he will prove a strong 
counterpoise to the calumnies and persecutions 
of my brothers-in-law." 

These remarks were repeated to Napoleon. 
According to Bourrienne, he replied, 

"Josephine labors in vain. Duroc and Hor- 



1804.] HORTENSE AND DUROC. 109 

Disappointed lovers. 

tense love each other, and they shall be mar- 
ried. I am attached to Duroc. He is well 
born. I have given Caroline to Miirat, and 
Pauline to Le Clerc. I can as well give Hor- 
tense to Duroc. He is as good as the others. 
He is general of division. Besides, I have 
other views for Louis." 

Josephine, however, soon won the assent of 
Napoleon to her views, and he regarded with 
great satisfaction the union of Hortense with 
Louis. The contemplated connection with 
Duroc was broken off. Two young hearts 
were thus crushed, with cruelty quite uninten- 
tional. Duroc was soon after married to an 
heiress, who brought him a large fortune, and, 
it is said, a haught}^ spirit and an irritable tem- 
per, which embittered all his days. 

Hortense, disappointed, heart-broken, de- 
spairing, was weary of the world. She proba- 
bly never saw another happy day. Such is 
life. 

"SorroAvs are for the sons of men, 

And weeping for earth's daughters." 



110 ' HORTENSE. [1804 



Stephanie Beauharuai.-! 



Chapter IV. 
The Marriage of Hortense. 

IT will be remembered that Hortense had a 
cousin, Stephanie, the daughter of her fa- 
ther's elder brother, Marquis de Beauharnais. 
Though Viscount de Beauharnais had es- 
poused the popular cause in the desperate 
struggle of the French Revolution, the mar- 
quis was an undisguised " aristocrat." Ally- 
ing himself with the king and the court, he 
bad fled from France with the emigrant no- 
bles. He had joined the allied army as it was 
marching upon his native land in the endeavor 
to crush out popular liberty and to reinstate 
the Bourbons on their throne of despotism. 
For this crime he was by the laws of France a 
traitor, doomed to the scaffold should he be 
captured. 

The marquis, in his flight from France, had 
left Stephanie with her aunt Josephine. She 
had sent her to the school of Madame Campan 
in company with Hortense and Caroline Bona- 



1804.] Marriage of Hortense. Ill 

Love of Louis Bonaparte for Stephanie. 

parte. Louis Bonaparte was consequently oft- 
en in the company of Stephanie, and fell des- 
perately in love with her. The reader will 
recollect the letter which Josephine wrote to 
Madame Campan relative to Stephanie, which 
indicated that she had some serious defects of 
character. Still she was a brilliant girl, with 
great powers of pleasing when she condescend- 
ed to use those powers. 

Louis Bonaparte was a very pensive, medi- 
tative young man, of poetic temperament, and 
of unsullied purity of character. With such 
persons love ever becomes an all-absorbing pas- 
sion. It has been well said that love is repre- 
sented as a little Cupid shooting tiny arrows, 
whereas it should be presented as a giant shak- 
ing the world. The secrets of the heart are 
seldom revealed to others. Neither Napoleon 
nor Josephine were probably at all aware how 
intense and engrossing was the affection of 
Louis for Stephanie. 

Kegenerated France was then struggling, 
with all its concentrated energies, against the 
combined aristocracies of Europe. Napoleon 
was the leader of the popular party. The fa- 
ther of Stephanie was in the counsels and the 
army of the Allies. Already advances had 



112 HORTENSE. [1804 



Objections to the marriage. 



been made to Napoleon, and immense bribes 
offered to induce him, in treachery to the peo- 
ple, to restore to the exiled Bourbons the 
sceptre which the confiding people had placed 
in his hands. Napoleon, like all men in pow- 
er, had bitter enemies, who were ever watch- 
ing for an opportunity to assail him. Should 
his brother Louis marry a daughter of one of 
the old nobility, an avowed aristocrat, an emi- 
grant, a pronounced " traitor," doomed to death, 
should he be captured, for waging war against 
his native land, it would expose Napoleon to 
suspicion. His enemies would have new van- 
tage-ground from which to attack him, and in 
the most tender point. 

Under these circumstances Napoleon con- 
templated with well-founded anxiety the idea 
of his brother's union with Stephanie. He was 
therefore the more ready to listen to Jose- 
phine's suggestion of the marriage of Louis 
and Hortense. This union in every respect 
seemed exceedingly desirable. Napoleon could 
gratify their highest ambition in assigning to 
them posts of opulence and honor. They 
could also be of great service to Napoleon in 
his majestic plan of redeeming all Europe from 
the yoke of the old feudal despotisms, and in 



1804.] Marriage of Hortense. 113 

Unavailing remonstrances. 

conferring upon the peoples the new political 
gospel of equal rights for all men. 

Napoleon had perceived this growing attach- 
ment just before he set out on the expedition 
to Egj^pt. To check it, if possible, he sent 
Louis on a very important mission to Toulon, 
where he kept him intensely occupied until 
lie was summoned to embark for Egypt. But 
such love as animated the heart of Louis is 
deepened, not diminished, by absence. A na- 
val officer, who was a friend of Louis, and who 
was aware of his attachment for Stephanie, re- 
monstrated with him against a connection so 
injudicious. 

"Do you know," said he, ''that a marriage 
of this description might be highly injurious 
to your brother, and render him an object of 
suspicion to the Government, and that, too, at 
a moment when he is setting out on a hazard- 
ous expedition ?" 

But Louis was in no mood to listen to such 
suggestions. It would appear that Stephanie 
was a young lady who could very easily trans- 
fer her affections. During the absence of 
Louis a match was arranged between Stepha- 
nie and the Duke of Baden. The heart of 
Louis was hopelessly crushed. He never re- 



114 HORTENSE. [1804 



Marriage of llortense. 



covered from the blow. These were the two 
saddened hearts, to whom the world was 
shrouded in gloom, which met amidst the 
splendors of the Tuileries. 

The genius of Napoleon and the tact of Jo- 
sephine were combined to unite in marriage 
the disappointed and despairing lovers, Louis 
and Hortense. After a brief struggle, they 
both sadly submitted to their fate. The mel- 
ancholy marriage scene is minutely described 
by Constant, one of the officers in the house- 
hold of Napoleon. The occasion was invest- 
ed with all possible splendor. A brilliant as- 
sembly attended. But as Louis led his beau- 
tiful bride to the altar, the deepest dejection 
marked his countenance. Hortense buried her 
eyes in her handkerchief and v/ept bitterly. 

From that hour the alienation commenced. 
The grief-stricken bride, 3^oung, inexperienced, 
impulsive, made no attempt to conceal the re- 
pugnance with which she regarded the hus- 
band who had been forced upon her. On the 
other hand, Louis had too much pride to pur- 
sue with his attentions a bride whom he had 
reluctantly received, and who openly mani- 
fested her aversion to him. Josephine was 
very sad. Her maternal instincts revealed to 



1804.] Marriage of Hortense. 115 



Testimony of Louis Bonaparte. 



her the true state of the case. Conscious that 
the union, which had so inauspiciously com- 
menced, had been brought about bj her, she 
exerted all her powers to promote friendly re- 
lations between the parties. But her counsels 
and her prayers were alike in vain. Louis 
Bonaparte, in his melancholy autobiography, 
writes : 

" Never was there a more gloomy wedding. 
Never had husband and wife a stronger pre- 
sentiment of a forced and ill-suited marriage. 
Before the ceremony, during the benediction, 
and ever afterwards, we both and equally felt 
that we were not suited to each other." 

" I have seen,'' writes Constant, " a hundred 
times Madame Louis Bonaparte seek the soli- 
tude of her apartment and the bosom of a 
friend, there to shed her tears. She would 
often escape from her husband in the midst of 
the saloon of the First Consul, where one saw 
with chagrin this young woman, formerly glit- 
tering in beaut}^, and who gracefull}^ perform- 
ed the honors of the palace, retire into a corner 
or into the embrasure of a window, with some 
one of her intimate friends, sadly to confide 
her griefs. During this interview, from which 
Bhe would return with her eyes red and flood- 



116 HOBTENSE. [1804. 



statement of Napoleon. 



ed, her husband would remain pensive and 
silent at the end of the saloon. 

Napoleon at St. Helena, referring to this pain- 
ful subject, said : " Louis had been spoiled 
by reading the works of Eousseau. He con- 
trived to agree with his wife only for a few 
months. There were faults on both sides. 
On the one hand, Louis was too teasing in 
his temper, and, on the other, Hortense was too 
volatile. Hortense, the devoted, the generous 
Hortense, was not entirely foultless in her con- 
duct towards her husband. This I must ac- 
knowledge, in spite of all the affection I bore 
her, and the sincere attachment which I am 
sure she entertained for me. Though Louis's 
whimsical humors wer^ in all probability suf- 
ficiently teasing, yet he loved Hortense. In 
such a case a woman should learn to subdue 
her own temper, and endeavor to return her 
husband's attachment. Had she acted in the 
way most conducive to her interest, she might 
have avoided her late lawsuit, secured happi- 
ness to herself and followed her husband to 
Holland. Louis would not then have fled 
from Amsterdam, and I should not have been 
compelled to unite his kingdom to mine — a 
measure which contributed to ruin my credit 



1804.] Makkiage of Hortense. 117 



Letter from Josephine to Hortcn? 



in Europe. Many other events might also 
have taken a different turn. Perhaps an ex» 
cuse might be found for the caprice of Louis's 
disposition in the deplorable state of his 
health." 

The following admirable letter from Jose- 
phine to Hortense throws additional light 
upon this unhappy union: 

" I was deeply grieved at what I heard a 
few days ago. What I saw yesterday confirms 
and increases my distress. Why show this re- 
pugnance to Louis ? Instead of rendering it 
the more annoying, by caprice and inequality 
of temper, why not endeavor to surmount it ? 
You say he is not amiable. Every thing is 
relative. If he is not so to you, he may be to 
others, and all women do not see him through 
the veil of dislike. As for myself, who am 
here altogether disinterested, I imagine that I 
behold him as he is— more loving, doubtless, 
than lovable. But this is a great and rare 
quality. He is generous, beneficent, affection- 
ate. He is a good father, and if you so will, 
he would prove a good husband. His mel- 
ancholy, and his taste for study and retire- 
ment, render him disagreeable to you. But 
let me ask you, is this his fault? Do you ex- 



118 HORTENSE. [1802. 

Letter from Josepliine. 

pect bim to change his nature according to cir- 
cumstances? Who could have foreseen his 
altered fortune? But, according to you, he 
has not even the courage to bear that fortunCc 
This, I think, is a mistake. With his secluded 
habits, and his invincible love of retirement 
and study, he is out of place in the elevated 
rank to which he has been raised. 

"You wish that he resembled his brother. 
But he must first have his brother's tempera-^ 
ment. You have not failed to remark that al- 
most our entire existence depends upon our 
health, and health upon digestion. If poor 
Louis's digestion were better, j^ou would find 
him much more amiable. But as he is, there 
is nothing to justify the indifference and dis- 
like you evince towards him. You, Hortense, 
who used to be so good, should continue so 
now, when it is most requisite. Take pity on 
a man who is to be pitied for what would con- 
stitute the happiness of another. Before you 
condemn him, think of others who, like him, 
have groaned beneath the burden of their great- 
ness, and bathed with tears their diadem, which 
they believed had never been destined for 
their brow. When I advise you to love, or at 
least not to repulse Louis, I speak to you as 



1802.] Marriage of Hortense. 119 

The ball of Madame MoQtesson. 

an experienced wife, a fond mother, and a 
friend ; and in these three characters, which 
are all equally dear to me, I tenderly embrace 
you." 

Madame Montesson gave the first ball that 
took place in honor of the marriage of Louis 
Bonaparte and Ilortense. Invitations were is- 
sued for seven hundred persons. Though 
there was no imperial court at that time, for 
Napoleon was but First Consul, yet every 
thing was arranged on a scale of regal splen- 
dor. The foreign ambassadors were all pres- 
ent ; and the achievements of Napoleon had 
been so marvellous, and his increasing grand- 
eur was so sure, that all present vied alike in 
evincing homage to the whole Bonaparte fam- 
ily. A lady who was a guest on the occasion 
writes : 

'^ Every countenance beamed with joy save 
that of the bride, whose profound melancholy 
formed a sad contrast to the happiness which 
she might have been expected to evince. She 
was covered with diamonds and flowers, and 
yet her countenance and manner showed noth- 
ing but regret. It was easy to foresee the mu- 
tual misery that would arise out of this ill-as- 
sorted union. Xiouis Bonaparte showed but 



120 HORTENSE. [1803. 

Birth of Napoleon Charles. 

little attention to his bride. Hortense, on her 
part, seemed to shun his very looks, lest he 
should read in hers the indifference she felt 
towards him. This indifference daily aug- 
mented in spite of the affectionate advice of 
Josephine, who earnestly desired to see Hor- 
tense in the possession of that happiness and 
peace of mind to which she was herself a 
stranger. But all her endeavors were unavail- 



mof. 

o 



5J 



The first child the fruit of this marriage was 
born in 1803, and received the name of Napo- 
leon Charles. Both Napoleon and Josepliine 
were rendered very h^ppy by his birth. He 
was an exceedingly beautiful and promising 
child, and they hoped that parental endearments, 
lavished upon the same object, would unite fa- 
ther and mother more closely. Napoleon loved 
the child tenderly, was ever fond of caressing 
him, and distinctly announced his intention of 
making him his heir. All thoughts of the 
divorce were banished, and a few gleams of 
tremulous joy visited the heart of Josephine. 
But alas ! these joys proved of but short dura- 
tion. It was soon manifest to her anxious 
view that there was no hope of any cordial 
reconciliation between Louia and Hortense. 



1806.] Marriage of Hortense. 121 

llortense Queen of Holland. 

And nothing could soothe the sorrow of Jose- 
phine's heart when she saw her daughter's hap- 
piness apparently blighted forever. 

Napoleon, conscious that he had been an in- 
strument in the bitter disappointments of Hor- 
tense and Louis, did every thing in his power 
to requite them for the wrong. Upon attain- 
ing the imperial dignity, he appointed his 
brother Louis constable of France, and soon 
after, in 1805, governor- general of Piedmont. 
In 1806, Schimmelpennink, grand pensionary 
of Batavia, resigning his office as chief magis- 
trate of the United Netherlands, Napoleon 
raised Louis to the dignit}^ of King of Hol- 
land. 

On the 18th of June, 1806, Louis and Hor- 
tense arrived in their new dominions. The 
exalted station to which Hortense was thus 
elevated did not compensate her for the sad- 
ness of separation from her beloved mother, 
with whom she had been so intimately asso- 
ciated during her whole life. The royal pair 
took up their residence at the Maison de Bois, 
a rural palace about three miles from the 
Hague. Here they received the various depu- 
tations, and thence made their public entrde 
into the capital in the midst of a scene of uni- 



122 HORTENSE. [1806. 

Composition of the " Romances." 

versal rejoicing. The pensive air of the queen 
did but add to the interest which she invaria- 
bly excited. For a time she endeavored to 
drown her griefs in yielding herself to the fes- 
tivities of the hour. Her fine figure, noble 
mien, and graceful manners fascinated all eyes 
and won all hearts. Her complexion was of 
dazzling purity, her eyes of a soft blue, and a 
profusion of fair hair hung gracefully upon 
her shoulders. Her conversation was extreme- 
ly lively and vivacious, having on every occa- 
sion just the right word to say. Her dancing 
was said to be the perfection of grace. With 
such accomplishments for her station, naturally 
fond of society and gayety, and with a disposi- 
tion to recompense herself, for her heart's dis- 
appointment, in the love of her new subjects, 
she secured in a very high degree the admira- 
tion of the Hollanders. 

It was at this time that Hortense composed 
that beautiful collection of airs called romances 
which has given her position among the ablest 
of musical composers. " The saloons of Paris,'^ 
says a French writer, " the solitude of exile, 
the most remote countries, have all acknowl- 
edged the charm of these most delightful mel- 
odies, which need no royal name to enhance 



1806.] Marriage of Hortense. 123 

Madame de StaeL 

their reputation. It is gratifying to our pride 
of country to hear the airs of France sung by 
the Greek and by the Kussian, and united to 
national poetry on the banks of the Thames 
and the Tagus. The homage thus rendered is 
the more flattering because the rank of the 
composer is unknown. It is their intrinsic 
merit which gives to these natural effusions of 
female sensibility the power of universal suc- 
cess. If Hortense ever experienced matrimo- 
nial felicity, it must have been at this time." 

When Madame de Stael was living in exile 
in the old Castle of Chaumont-sur-Loire, where 
she w^as joined by her beautiful friend Madame 
Eecamier, one of their favorite songs was that 
exquisite air composed by Queen Hortense 
upon her husband's motto, "Do what is right, 
come what may." 

The little son of Hortense was twining him- 
self closely around his mother's heart. He had 
become her idol. Napoleon was then in the ze- 
nith of his power, and it was understood that 
Napoleon Charles w^as to inherit the imperial 
sceptre. The warmth of his heart and his 
daily intellectual development indicated that 
he would prove worthy of the station which 
he was destined to fill. 



124 HORTENSE. [1806. 

Anecdote of Napoleon Charles. 

Shortly after the queen's arrival at the Hague, 
she received a New Year's present from Jose- 
phine for the young Napoleon Charles. It con- 
sisted of a large chest filled with the choicest 
playthings which Paris could present. The 
little boy was seated near a window which 
opened upon the park. As his mother took 
one after another of the playthings from the 
chest to exhibit to him, she was surprised and 
disappointed to find that he regarded them 
with so much indift'erence. His attention seem- 
ed to be very much occupied in looking out 
into the park. Hortense said to him, " My 
son, are you not grateful to 3^0 ur grandmam- 
ma for sending you so many beautiful pres- 
ents?" 

" Indeed I am, mamma," he replied. " But 
it does not surprise me, for grandmamma is al- 
ways so good that I am used to it." 

" Then you are not amused with all these 
pretty playthings, my son ?" 

"Oh yes, mamma, but — but then I want 
something else." 

"What is it, my darling? You know how 
much I love you. You may be sure that I 
will give it to you." 

"No, mamma, I am afraid you won't, I 



1804.] Markiage of Hortense. 125 

Letter from Josephine. 

want you to let me run about barefooted in 
that puddle in the avenue." 

His mother of course could not grant this 
request, and the little fellow mourned very 
justly over the misfortune of being a prince, 
which prevented him from enjoying himself 
like other boys in playing in the mud. 

Hortense, absorbed in her new cares, wrote 
almost daily to her mother, giving interesting 
recitals of the child. She did not, however, 
write as frequently to her father. Josephine 
wrote to her from Aix-la-Chapelle, under date 
of September 8tb, 1804: 

" The news which you give me of Napoleon 
affords me great pleasure, my dear Hortense ; 
for in addition to the very tender interest I 
feel for him, I appreciate all the anxieties from 
which you are relieved ; and you know, my 
dear child, that your happiness will ever con- 
stitute a part of mine. The Emperor has 
read your letter. He has at times appeared to 
me wounded, in not hearing from you. He 
would not accuse your heart if he knew you 
as well as I do. But appearances are against 
you. Since he may suppose that you neglect 
him, do not lose a moment to repair the wrongs 
which are not intentional. Say to him that it 



126 HOKTENSE. [1804. 



Letter from Josephine, 



is through discretion that you have not written 
to him ; that your heart suffers from that law 
which even respect dictates ; that having al- 
ways manifested towards you the goodness and 
tenderness of a father, it will ever be your hap- 
piness to offer to him the homage of gratitude. 

"Speak to him also of the hope you chei'ish 
of seeing me at the period of your confinement. 
I can not endure the thought of being absent 
from you at that time. Be sure, my Hortense, 
that nothing can prevent me from going to 
take care of you for your sake, and still more 
for my own. Do you speak of this also to Bo- 
naparte, w^ho loves you as if you were his own 
child. And this greatly increases my attach- 
ment for him. Adieu, my good Hortense. I 
embrace you with the warmest affections of 
my heart." 

Soon after this Hortense gave birth to her 
second child, Napoleon Louis. The health of 
the mother not long after the birth of the child 
rendered it necessary for her to visit the w\a- 
ters of St. Armand. It seems that little Na- 
poleon Louis was placed under the care of a 
nurse where Josephine could often see him. 
The Empress wrote to Hortense from St. Cloud 
on the 20th of July, 1805: 



1804.] Marriage of Hortense. 127 



Letter from Josephine. 



"My health requires that I should repose a 
little from the fatigues of the long journey 
which I have just made, and particularly from 
the grief which I have experienced in separa- 
ting myself from Eugene in Italy. I received 
yesterday a letter from him. He is very well, 
and works hard. He greatly regrets being 
separated from his mother and his beloved sis- 
ter. Alas! there are unquestionably many 
people who envy his lot, and who think him 
very happy. Such persons do not read his 
heart. In writing to you, my dear Hortense, 
I would only speak to you of my tenderness 
for you, and inform you how happy I have 
been to have your son Napoleon Louis with 
me since my return. 

"The Emperor, without speaking to me' 
about it, sent to him immediately on our arri- 
val at Fontainebleau. I was much touched 
by this attention on his part. He had per- 
ceived that I had need of seeing a second yoiiT- 
self; a little charming being created by thee. 
The child is very well. He is very happy. 
He eats only the soup which his nurse' gives 
him. He never comes in when we are at the 
table. The Emperor caresses him very much. 
Eugene has given me. for you, a necklace of 



128 HORTENSE. [1806. 



Campaigns of Jena and Friedland. 



malachite, engraved in relief. M. Berglieim 
will band you one wbicli I purchased at Milan. 
It is composed of engraved amethysts, which 
will be very becoming upon your beautiful 
white skin. Give my most affectionate remem- 
brance to your husband. Embrace for me Na- 
poleon Charles, and rely, my dear daughter, 
upon the tenderness of your mother, 

"Josephine." 

At midnight, on the 24th of September, 
1806, Napoleon left Paris to repel a new coa- 
lition of his foes in the campaigns of Jena, 
Auerstadt, Eylau, and Friedland. Josephine 
accompanied her husband as far as Ma3'encc, 
where she remained, that she might more easi- 
ly receive tidings from him. Just before leav- 
ing Paris, Napoleon reviewed the Imperial 
Guard in the court-yard of the Tuileries. Af- 
ter the review he entered the saloon of Jose- 
phine. Throwing down his hat and sword 
upon the sofa, he took the arm of the Empress, 
and they together walked up and down the 
room, earnestly engaged in conversation. Lit- 
tle Napoleon Charles, who was on a visit to 
his grandmother, picked up the Emperor's 
cocked hat, placed it upon his head, and put- 



|]l!lll|iilfi:;if|ffii;!!||||i!W|lfS^ 




1806.] Marriage of Hortense. 131 

Anecdote. 

ting the sword-belt over his neck, with the 
dangling sword, began strutting behind the 
Emperor with a very military tread, attempt- 
ing to whistle a martial air. Napoleon, turn- 
ing around, saw the child, and catching him 
up in his arms, hugged and kissed him, saying 
to Josephine, "What a charming picture!" 
Josephine immediately ordered a portrait to 
be taken by the celebrated painter Grerard of 
the young prince in that costume. She intend- 
ed to send it a present to the Emperor as a 
sui'prise. 

The Empress remained for some time at 
Mayence and its environs, daily writing to the 
Emperor, and almost daily, sometimes twice a 
day, receiving letters from him. These notes 
were very brief, but always bore the impress 
of ardent affection. 

On the 13th of Januarj^, 1806, Eugene was 
very happily married to the Princess Augusta 
Amelie, daughter of the Elector of Bavaria. 
When Josephine heard of the contemplated 
connection, she wrote to Hortense: 

"You know very well that the Emperor 
would not marry Eugene without my knowl- 
edge. Still I accept the public rumor. I 
should love very much to have her for a daugh- 



132 HORTENSE. [1806. 



Letter from Josephine to Hortense. 



ter-in-law. She is a charming character, and 
beautiful as an angel. She unites to an ele- 
gant figure the most graceful carriage I have 
ever known." 

A few days after, on the Oth of January, she 
wrote from Munich: " I am not willing to lose 
a moment, my dear Hortense, in informing you 
that the marriage of Eugene with the dauglater 
of the Elector of Bavaria is just definitely 
arranged. You will appreciate, as I do, all 
the value of this new proof of the attachment 
which the Emperor manifests for your brother. 
Nothing in the world could be more agreeable 
to me than this alliance. The young princess 
unites to a charming figure all the qualities 
which can render a woman interesting and 
lovely. The marriage is not to be celebrated 
here, but in Paris. Thus you will be able to 
witness the happiness of your brother, and 
mine will be perfect, since I shall find myself 
united to both of my dear children." 

The arrangements were changed subsequent- 
ly, and the nuptials were solemnized in Mu- 
nich. Napoleon wrote as follows to Hortense : 

" Munich, Jtmimry 9th, 1806. 

"My Daughter, — Eugene arrives to-mor- 



1807.] Makriage of Hortense. 133 

Josephine to Hortense. 

row, and is to be married in four days. I 
should have been very happy if you could 
have attended his marriage, but there is no 
longer time. The Princess Augusta is tall, 
beautiful, and full of good qualities, and you 
will have, in all respects, a sister worthy of 
you. A thousand kisses to M. Napoleon. 

" Napoleon." 

The Empress, after remaining some time at 
Mayence, as the campaign on the banks of the 
Vistula was protracted, returned to Paris. In 
a state of great anxiety with regard to her hus- 
band, she took up her residence at St. Cloud. 
Under date of March, 1807, she wrote to her 
daughter, then queen of Holland, residing at 
the Hague : 

"I have received much pleasure in speaking 
of you with M. Jansens. I perceive, from 
what he tells me respecting Holland, that the 
king is very much beloved, and that you share 
in the general affection. This renders me hap- 
py. My health is very good at the present 
moment, but my heart is always sad. 

" All the private letters which I have seen 
agree in the declaration that the Emperor ex- 
posed himself very much at the battle of Eylau. 



134 HOKTENSE. [1807. 

Death of Napoleon Charles. 

I frequently receive tidings from him, and 
sometimes two letters a day. This is a great 
consolation, but it does not replace him." 

That Napoleon, in the midst of the ten thou- 
sand cares of so arduous a campaign, could have 
found time to write daily to Josephine, and 
often twice a day, is surely extraordinary. 
There are not many husbands, it is to be fear- 
ed, who are so thoughtful of the anxieties of an 
absent wife. 

Early in May the Empress received the por- 
trait, of which we have spoken, of her idolized 
grandchild, Napoleon Charles, in his amusing 
military costume. She was intending to send 
it as a pleasing memorial to the Emperor in his 
distant encampment. 

Just then she received the dreadful tidings 
that little Napoleon Charles had been taken 
sick with the croup, and, after the illness of but 
a few hours, had died. It was the 5th of May, 
1807. Josephine was in Paris; Hortense at 
the Hague, in Holland ; Napoleon was hun- 
dreds of leagues distant in the north, with his 
army almost buried in snow upon the banks 
of the Vistula. 

The world perhaps has never witnessed the 
death of a child which has caused so much an- 



1807.] Marriage of Hortense. 135 

Anguish of Hortense. 

guish. Hortense did not leave her son for a 
moment, as the terrible disease advanced to its 
termination. When he breathed his last she 
seemed completely stunned. Not a tear dim- 
med her eye. Not a word, not a moan was ut- 
tered. Like a marble statue, she sat upon the 
sofa where the child had died, gazing around 
her with a look of wild, amazed, delirious ago- 
ny. With much difficulty she was taken from 
the room, being removed on the sofa upon 
which she reclined. Her anguish was so great 
that for some time it was feared that reason 
was dethroned, and that the blow would prove 
fatal. Her limbs were rigid, and her dry and 
glassy eye was riveted upon vacancy. At 
length, in the endeavor to bring her out from 
this dreadful state, the lifeless body of the child, 
dressed for the grave, was brought in and 
placed in the lap of its mother. The pent-up 
anguish of Hortense now found momentary re- 
lief in a flood of tears, and in loud and uncon- 
trollable sobbings. 

The anguish of Josephine surpassed, if pos- 
sible, even that of Hortense. The Empress 
knew that Napoleon had selected this child as 
his heir; that consequently the terrible divorce 
was no longer to be thought of In addition 



136 HORTENSE. [1807. 

Letter of condolence. 

to the loss of one she so tenderly loved, rose 
the fear that his death would prove to her the 
greatest of earthly calamities. For three days 
she could not leave her apartment, and did 
nothing but weep. 

The sad intelligence were conveyed to Napo- 
leon in his cheerless encampment upon the 
Vistula. As he received the tidings he ut- 
tered not a word. Sitting down in silence, lie 
buried his face in his hand, and for a long 
time seemed lost in painful musings. ISTo one 
ventured to disturb his grief with attempted 
consolation. 

As soon as Josephine was able to move, she 
left Paris to visit her bereaved, heart-broken 
daughter. But her strength failed her by the 
way, and when she reached Luchen, a palace 
near Brussels, she was able to proceed no far- 
ther. She wrote as follows to Hortense : 

"Luchen, May 14th, 1807—10 o'clock p.m. 

" I have arrived this moment at the chateau 
of Luchen, my dear daughter. It is there I 
write to you, and there I await you. Come to 
restore me to life. Your presence is necessary 
to me, and you must also feel the need of see- 
ing me, that you may weep with your mother. 



1807.] Marriage of Hortense. 137 

Josephine to Hortense. 

I earnestly wish to proceed farther, but my 
strength has failed me, and moreover I have 
not had time to apprise the Emperor. I have 
found strength to come thus far. I hope you 
also will find strength to come and see your 
molher." 

Hortense immediately repaired to Luchen to 
seek a mother's sympathy. With Josephine 
she returned to Paris, and soon after, by the en- 
treaties of her physician, continued her journey 
to take the waters of a mineral spring in the 
south of France, seeking a change of climate 
and of scene. Josephine remained in the 
depths of sorrow at St. Cloud. On the same 
day in which Josephine arrived at Luchen, the 
Emperor wrote to her from the Vistula as fol- 
lows: 

" Finckenstein, May 14th, 1807. 

" I can appreciate the grief which the death 
of poor Napoleon has caused. You can under- 
stand the anguish which I experience. I could 
wish that I were with you, that you might be- 
come moderate and discreet in your grief. 
You have had the hjfppiness of never losing 
any children. But it is one of the conditions 
and sorrows attached to suffering humanity. 
Let me hear that you have become reasonable 



138 HORTENSE. [1807. 



Napoleon to Hortense. 



and tranquil. Would you magnify my an- 
guish ?" 

Two days after Napoleon wrote the Em- 
press: 

"I have received your letter of the sixth of 
May. I see in it already the injury which you 
are suffering, and I fear that you are not rea- 
sonable, and that you affiict yourself too much 
from the calamity which has befallen us. 

" Adieu my love. Entirely thine, 

"Napoleon." 

Again, after the lapse of four days, he 
wrote : 

"I have received your letter of the tenth of 
May. I see that you have gone to Luchen. 
I think that you may rest there a fortnight. 
That will give much pleasure to the Belgians, 
and will serve to divert your mind. I see with 
pain that you are not wise. Grief has bounds 
which it should not pass. Preserve yourself 
for your friend, and believe in all my affec- 
tion." 

On the same day the Emperor wrote as fol- 
lows to Hortense : 

" Finckenstein, May 20th, 1807. 

*' My Daughter, — Every thing which reach- 



1807.] Marriage of Hortense 139 

Napoleon to Hortense. 

es me from the Hague informs me that you are 
unreasonable. However legitimate may be 
your grief, it should have its bounds. Do not 
impair your health. Seek consolation. Know 
that life is strewn with so many dangers, and 
may be the source of so many calamities, that 
death is by no means the greatest of evils. 
" Your affectionate father, Napoleon." 

It is to be borne in mind that these brief 
epistles were written from the midst of one of 
the most arduous of campaigns. Four days 
after this, on the 24:th, JSTapoleon wrote to Jo- 
sephine : 

" I have received your letter from Luchen. 
I see with pain that your grief is still unabated, 
and that Hortense has not yet arrived. She is 
unreasonable, and does not merit that one 
should love her, since she loves only her chil- 
dren. Strive to calm yourself, and give me no 
more pain. For every irremediable evil we 
should find consolation. Adieu, my love. 
" Wholly thine. Napoleon." 

After two days a^ain the Emperor wrote to 
Josephine : 

" I have received your letter of the 16th, and 



140 HORTENSE. [1807. 



Napoleon to Hortense. 



see with pleasure that Hortense has arrived at 
Luchen. I am indeed grieved bj what you 
tell me of the state of stupor in which she still 
continues. She should have more fortitude, 
and should govern herself. lean not conceive 
why they should wish her to go to the springs. 
Her attention would be much more diverted at 
Paris, and she would find there more consola- 
tion. Control yourself. Be cheerful, and take 
care of your health. Adieu, my love. I share 
deeply in all your griefs. It is painful to me 
that I am not with you. Napoleon." 

It will be remembered that Hortense had 
another child, then but an infant, by the name 
of Napoleon Louis. This child subsequently 
married a daughter of Joseph Bonaparte, and 
died in a campaign in Ital}^, as he espoused the 
popular cause in the endeavor to throw off the 
yoke of Austria. The third and only surviv- 
ing child, Louis Napoleon, now Emperor of the 
French, was not then born. 

We have previously alluded in this history 
to a niece of Madame Campan by the name of 
Adele Auguie, who was the intimate friend and 
companion of Hortense in her school-days. 
School-girl attachments, though often very ar- 



1807.] Marriage of Hortense. 14} 

Josephine to Hortense. 

dent, are not generally very lasting. This one, 
however, proved of life-long duration. Adele 
became Madame de Broc. There is an allusion 
to her in the following letter. We shall here- 
after have occasion to refer to her in describing 
the disaster which terminated her life. It wjis 
the latter part of May when Hortense left her 
mother to journey to the south of France. 
Soon after her departure Josephine wrote to 
her as follows : 

"St. Cloud, May 27th, 1807. 
"I have wept much since your departure, 
my dear Hortense. This separation has been 
very painful to me. Nothing can give me 
courage to support it but the certainty that the 
journey will do you good. I have received 
tidings from you, through Madame Broc. I 
pray you to thank her for that attention, and 
to request her to write to me when you may 
be unable to write yourself I had also news 
from your son. He is at the chateau of Lu- 
chen, very well, and awaiting the arrival of the 
king. He shares very keenly in our griefs. 
I have need of this consolation, for I have had 
none other since your departure. Always 
alone by myself, every moment dwelling upon 
the subject of our affliction, my tears flow in* 



142 HORTENSE. [1807. 



Josephine to Hortense. 



cessa^tl3^ Adieu, my beloved child. Pre- 
serve yourself for a mother who loves you ten- 
derly." 

Soon after this Josephine went for a, short 
time to Malmaison. On the 2d of June Napo- 
leon wrote to her from that place the following 
letter, inclosing also one for Hortense. 

^'My Love, — I have learned of your arrival 
at Malmaison. I am displeased with Hortense. 
She does not write me a word. Every thing 
which you say to me of her gives me pain. 
Why is it that you have not been able a little 
to console her? You weep. I hope that you 
will control your feelings, that I may not find 
you overwhelmed with sadness. T have been 
at Dantzic for two days. The weather is very 
fine, and I am well. I think more of you. than 
you can think of one who is absent. Adieu 
my love. My most affectionate remembrance. 
Send the inclosed letter to Hortense." 

The letter to Hortense to which Napoleon 
refers, was as follows: 

"Dantzic, June 2d, 1807. 

''My Daughter,— You have not written 
me a word in your well-founded and great af- 
fliction. You have forgotten every thing as 
if you had no other loss to endure. I am in- 



1807.] Mareiage of Hortense. 143 

Napoleon to Hortense. 

formed that 3^011 no longer love ; that you are 
indifferent to every thing. I perceive it by 
your silence. This is not right, Hortense. It 
is not what you promised me. Your child 
was every thing to you. Had I been at Mai- 
maison, I should have shared your anguish. 
But I should also have, wished that you would 
restore yourself to your best friends. Adieu, 
my daughter. Be cheerful. We must learn 
resignation. Cherish your health, that you 
may be able to fulfill all your duties. My 
wife is very sad in view of your condition. 
Do not add to her anguish." 

The next day, June 3d, the Emperor wrote 
to Josephine : 

"All the letters which come to me from 
St. Cloud say that you weep continually. 
This is not right. It is necessary to control 
one's self and to be contented. Hortense is 
entirely wrong. What you write me about 
her is pitiful. Adieu, my love. Believe in 
the affection with which I cherish you." 

The next day Josephine wrote from the 
palace of St. Cloud to Hortense, who was then 
at the waters of Cauterets : 

" Your letter has greatly consoled me, my 
dear Hortense, and the tidings of your health, 



lU HORTENSE. [1807. 



Josephine to Hortensc. 



which I have received from your ladies, con- 
tribute very much to render me more tranquil. 
The Emperor has been deeply affected. In all 
his letters he seeks to give me fortitude, but 
I know that this severe nfiiiction iuis been 
keenly felt by him. 

"The king"^ arrived yesterday at St. Leu. 
He has sent me word that he will come to see 
me to-day. He will leave the little one with 
me during his absence. You know how dear- 
ly I love that child, and the solicitude I feel 
for him. I hope that the king will follow the 
same route which you have taken. It will be, 
my dear Hortensc, a consolation to you both 
to see each other again. All the letters which 
I have received from him since his departure 
are full of his attachment for you. Your heart 
is too affectionate not to be touched by this. 
Adieu, my dear child. Take care of your 
health. Mine can never be established till I 
shall no longer suffer for those whom I love. 
I embrace you tenderly. Josephine." 

* The husband of Hortense, King of Holland. He was 
then very sick, suffering from an attack of paralysis. St. 
Leu was a beautiful estate he owned in France. He had 
with him his second and then only living child, Napoleon 
Louis. Leaving him with his grandmother, he repaired to 
Cauterets, where he joined Hortense, his wife. 



1807.] Marriage of Hortense. 145 



Josephine to Hortense. 



Two days after this, on the 6th, the Empe- 
ror wrote the Empress : 

"I am very well, my love. ' Your letter of 
yesterday gave me much pain. It appears 
that you are continually sad, and that you are 
■not reasonable. The weather is very bad. 
Adieu, my love. I love you and desire to 
hear that you are cheerful and contented." 

On the 11th of June, Josephine again wrote 
to Hortense : 

'' Your son is remai-kably well. He amuses 
me much; he is so pleasant. I find he has 
all the endearing manners of the poor child 
over whose loss we weep." 

Again she wrote, probably the next day, in 
answer to a letter from Hortense : 

"Your letter has nlfected me deeply, my 
dear daughter. I see how profound and un- 
varying is your grief And I perceive it still 
more sensibly by the anguish which I experi- 
ence myself We have lost that which in 
every respect was the most worthy to be loved. 
My tears flow as on the first day. Our grief 
is too well-founded for reason to be able to 
cause it to cease. Nevertheless, my dear Hor- 
tense, it should moderate it. You are not 
ilone in the world. There still remains to you 
10 



146 HORTENSE. [1807. 



Napoleon to Hortense. 



a husband and a mother, whose tender love 
you well know, and you have too much sensi- 
bility to regard all that with coldness and in- 
difference. Think of us ; and let that memory 
calm another well grounded and grievous. I 
rely upon your attachment for me and upon 
the strength of your mind. I hope also that 
the journey and the w^aters will do you good. 
Your son is remarkably welh He is a charm- 
ing child. My health is a little better, but 
you know that it depends upon yours. Adieu. 
I embrace you. Josephine." 

On the 16tli of June, Napoleon again wrote 
to Hortense from his distant encampment: 

"My Daughter, — I have received your 
letter dated Orleans. Your griefs touch my 
heart, but I could wish that you would sum- 
mon more fortitude. To live is to suffer, and 
the sincere man suffers incessantly to retain 
the mastery over himself I do not love to 
see you unjust towards the little Napoleon 
Louis, and towards all your friends. Your 
mother and I had cherished the hope of being 
more than we are in your heart. I have gain- 
ed a great victory on the 14th of June.* I 
* Victory of Friedlaiid. 



1807.] Marriage of Hortense. 14:7 

The need of charity. 

am well and love you very much. Adieu, 
my daughter. I embrace you with my whole 
heart." 

The above extracts from the private corre- 
spondence of Napoleon and Josephine reveal, 
more clearly than any thing else could possi- 
bly do, the anguish with which Hortense was 
oppressed. They also exhibit, in a very inter- 
esting light, the affectionate relationship which 
existed between the members of the Imperial 
fiimily. The authenticity of the letters is be- 
yond all possible question. How much more 
charitable should we be could we but fully 
understand the struggles and the anguish to 
which all human hearts are exposed. 



148 HORTENSE. [1808. 



Birth of Louis Napoleon. 



Chapter Y. 

Birth of Louis Napoleon and 
THE Divorce of Josephine. 

THE latter part of July, 1807, Hortense, in 
the state of anguish which the preceding 
chapter develops, was, with her husband, at the 
waters of Cauterets, in the south of France. 
They were united by the ties of a mutual 
grief Napoleon was more than a thousand 
miles away in the north of Europe. In con- 
siderably less than a year from that date, on 
the 20th of April, 1808, Hortense gave birth 
in Paris to her third child, Louis Napoleon, 
now Napoleon IIL, Emperor of the French. 
Josephine was then at Bordeaux, and wrote 
as follows to Hortense : 

" Bordeaux, April 23d, 1808. 

"I am, my dear Hortense, in an excess of 
joy. The tidings of your happy accouche- 
ment were brought to me yesterday by M. de 
Villeneuve. I felt my heart beat the moment 



1808.] Divorce of Josephine. 149 



Letter from Josephine. 



I saw him enter. But I cherisbed the hope 
that he had only good tidings to bring me, and 
my presentiments did not deceive me. I have 
received a second letter, which assures me that 
you are very well, and also your son. I know 
that Napoleon will console himself in not hav- 
ing a sister, and that he already loves very 
much his brother. Embrace them both for 
me. But I must not write 3^ou too long a let- 
ter from fear of fatiguing you. Take care of 
3^ourself with the utmost caution. Do not re- 
ceive too much company at present. Let me 
hear from you every day. I await tidings 
from you with as much impatience as I love 
you with tenderness. Josephine." 

The birth of this prince, Louis Napoleon, 
whose renown as Napoleon IIL now fills the 
world, and respecting whose character and 
achievements there is so wonderful a diversity 
of sentiment among intelligent men, took place 
in Paris. Napoleon was at that time upon the 
highest pinnacle of prosperity. The Allies, 
vanquished in every conflict, seemed disposed 
to give up the attempt to reinstate the Bour- 
bons upon the throne of France. The birth 
of Louis Napoleon, as a prince of the Empire, 



150 HORTENSE. [1808. 



Public announcement of the birth. 



in the direct line of hereditary descent, was 
welcomed by the guns of the Invalides, and by 
military salutes all along the lines of the Impe- 
rial army, from Hamburg to Rome, and from 
the Pyrenees to the Danube. The important 
event was thus announced in the Moniteur of 
April 21st : 

" Yesterday, at one o'clock, her Majesty the 
Queen of Holland was safely delivered of a 
prince. In conformity with Article 40, of the 
Act of the Constitution of 28 Floreal, year 
12, the Chancellor of the Empire attested the 
birth, and wrote immediately to the Emperor, 
the Empress, and the King of Holland, to com- 
municate the intelhgence. At five o'clock in 
the evening, the act of birth was received by 
the arch chancellor, assisted by his eminence, 
Reynault de St. Jean d'Angely, minister of state 
and state secretary of the Imperial family. In 
the absence of the Emperor, the new-born 
prince has not yet received his name. This 
will be provided for by an ulterior act, accord- 
ing to the orders of his Majesty." 

By a decree of the Senate, these two chil- 
dren of Louis Bonaparte and Hortense were 
declared heirs to the Imperial throne, should 
Napoleon and his elder brother Joseph die 



1808.] Divorce of Josephine. 151 

Napoleon's attachment to his nephews. 

without children. This decree of the Senate 
was submitted to the acceptation of the French 
people. With wonderful unanimity it was 
adopted. There were 3,521,675 votes in the 
affirmative, and but 2599 in the negative. 

Napoleon ever manifested the deepest inter- 
est in these two children. At the time of the 
birth of Louis Napoleon he was at Bajonne, 
arranging with the Spanish princes for the 
transfer of the crown of Spain to Joseph Bo- 
naparte. Josephine was at Bordeaux. From 
this interview he passed, in his meteoric flight, 
to the Congress of Kings at Erfurt, but a few 
miles from the battle-field of Jena. It was 
here that the celebrated historian Miiller met 
the Emperor and gave the following testimo- 
ny as to the impression which his presence 
produced upon his mind: 

" Quite impartially and truly, as before God, 
I must say, that the variety of his knowledge, 
the acuteness of his observation, the solidity 
of his understanding, filled me with astonish- 
ment. His manner of speaking to me inspired 
me with love for him. It was one of the most 
remarkable days of my life. By his genius 
and his disinterested goodness he has conquer- 
ed me also." 



152 HORTENSE. [1809. 



Letter from Napoleon. 



Hortense, with a saddened spirit, now lived 
in great seclusion, devoting herself almost ex- 
clasively to the education of her two sons, Na- 
poleon Louis and Louis Napoleon. Her bodily 
health was feeble, and she was most of the 
time deeply dejected. In May, 1809, Hortense, 
without consulting the Emperor, who was ab- 
sent in German}^, took the two princes with 
her to the baths of Baden, where they were 
exposed to the danger of being seized and held 
as hostages by the Austrians. The solicitude 
of the Emperor for them may be seen in the 
following letter: 

"Ebersdorf, May 28th, 1809. 

"My Daughter,— I am very much dis- 
pleased, {tres mecontent) that you should have 
left France without my permission, and par- 
ticularly that you should have taken my neph- 
ews from France. Since you are at the waters 
of Baden, remain there. But in one hour after 
the reception of this letter, send my two neph- 
ews to Strasbourg, near to the Empress. They 
ought never to leave France. It is the first time 
that I have had occasion to be dissatisfied with 
you. But you ought not to dispose of my 
nephews without my permission. You ought 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. 153 



Josepliinc to Hortense. 



to perceive the mischievous effects which that 
may produce. 

"Since the waters of Baden are beneficial to 
you, you can remain there some days. But I 
repeat to you, do not deLay for a moment send- 
ing my nephews to Strasbourg. Should the 
Empress go to the waters of Plombi^res they 
can accompany her there. But they ought 
never to cross the bridge of Strasbourg. Your 
affectionate father, Napoleon." 

This letter was sent to Josephine to be trans- 
mitted by her to Hortense. She received it on 
the first of June, and immediately sent it to her 
daughter, with a letter which implies that Hor- 
tense had already anticipated the wishes of Na- 
poleon, and had sent the princes, after a brief 
visit, to Josephine at Strasbourg. Soon after 
this it would seem that little Louis Napoleon, 
who was evidently the favorite of his grand- 
mother, perhaps because he was more with her, 
accompanied Josephine to St. Cloud. About 
a fortnight after this she wrote to Hortense from 
that palace : 

"I am happy to have your son with me. 
He is charming. I am attached to him more 
and more, in thinking he will be a solace to 



154 HORTENSE. [1809. 



Remarks of the Duke of Rovijro. 



you. His little reasons amuse me much. He 
grows every day, and bis complexion is very 
fine. I am for from you, but I frequently 
embrace your son, and love to imagine to 
myself that it is my dear daughter whom I 
embrace." 

And now we approach that almost saddest 
of earth's tragedies, the divorce of Josephine — 
the great wrong and calamity of Napoleon's 
life. The event had so important a bearing 
upon the character and the destiny of Hortense 
as to demand a brief recital here. 

It is often difficult to judge of the motives of 
human actions ; but at times circumstances are 
such that it is almost impossible to misjudge 
the causes which lead to conduct. Greneral 
Savary, Duke of Rovigo, the intimate personal 
friend of the Emperor, and one better acquainted 
with his secret thoughts than any other person, 
gives the following account of this momentous 
and fatal act : 

" A thousand idle stories have been related 
concerning the Emperor's motives for breaking 
the bonds he had contracted upwards of fifteen 
years before, and separating from one who was 
the partner of his life during the most stormy 
events of his glorious career. It was ascribed 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. 165 



Remarks of the Duke of Rovigo. 



to his ambition to connect himself with Tojal 
blood ; and malevolence has delighted in spread- 
ing the report that to this consideration he had 
sacrificed every other. • This opinion was quite 
erroneous, and he was as unfairly dealt with, 
upon the subject, as all persons are who hap- 
pen to be placed above the level of mankind. 

" Nothing can be more true than that the 
sacrilice of the object of his affections was the 
most painful that he experienced throughout 
his life; and that he would have preferred 
adopting any course than the one to which he 
was driven by the motives which I am about 
to relate. Public opinion in general was un- 
just to the Emperor, when he placed the impe- 
rial crown upon his head. A feeling of per- 
sonal ambition was supposed to be the main- 
spring of all his actions. This was, however, 
a very mistaken impression. I have already 
mentioned with what reluctance he had altered 
the form of government, and that if he had not 
been apprehensive that the State would fall 
again a prey to those dissensions which are in 
separable from an elective form of government, 
he would not have changed an order of things 
which appeared to have been the first solid 
conquest achieved by the revolution. Ever 



156 llOKTEXSE. [1809. 

Remarks of the Duke of J{ov;go. 

since he bad brought back the nation to mo- 
narchical principles, he had neglected no means 
of consolidating institutions which permanent- 
ly secured those principles, and yet firmly es- 
tablished the superiority of modern ideas over 
antiquated customs. Differences of opinion 
could no longer create any distuibauce respect- 
ing the form of government, when his career 
should be closed. 

" But this was not enough. It was farther 
requisite that the line of inheritance should be 
defined in so clear a manner that, at his death, 
no pretense might be made for the contention 
of any claimants to the throne. For if such a 
misfortune were to take place, the least foreign 
intervention would have sufficed to revive a 
spirit of discord among us. This feeling of 
personal ambition consisted in this case, in a 
desire to hand his w^ork down to posterit}^, and 
to resign to his successor a state resting upon 
his numerous trophies for its stability. He 
could not have been blind to the fact, that the 
perpetual warfare into which a jealousy of his 
strength had plunged him, had, in reality, no 
other object than his owni downftill, because 
with him must necessarily crumble that gi- 
gantic power which was no longer upheld by 



1809.] DivoKCE OF Josephine. 167 

Remarks of the Duke of Rovigo. 

the revolutioDarj energy he himself had re- 
pressed. 

" The Emperor had not any children. The 
Empress had two, but he never could have en- 
tertained a thought of them without exposing 
himself to the most serious inconveniences. I 
believe, however, that if the two children of 
Josephine had been the only ones in his fami- 
ly, he would have made some arrangement for 
securing the inheritance to Eugene. He how- 
ever dismissed the idea of appointing him his 
heir, because he had nearer relations, and it 
would have given rise to dissensions which it 
was his principal object to avoid. He also con- 
sidered the necessity in which he was placed 
of forming an alliance sufficiently powerful, in 
order that, in the event of his system being at 
any time threatened, that alliance might be a 
resting-point, and save it from total ruin. He 
likewise hoped that it would be the means of 
putting to an end that series of wars, of which 
he was desirous, above all thino^s, to avoid a re- 
currence. These were the motives which deter- 
mined him to break a union so long contracted. 
He wished it less for himself than for the pur- 
pose of interesting a powerful state in the 
maintenance of the order of things established 



158 HOBTENSE. [1809. 



Testimony of Cambacereg. 



in France. He reflected often on the mode of 
making this communication to the Empress. 
Still he was reluctant to speak to her. He 
was apprehensive of the consequences of her 
tenderness of feeling. His heart was never 
proof against the shedding of teai's.'' 

The arch-chancellor Cambaceres states that 
Napoleon communicated to him the resolution 
he had adopted ; alluded to the reasons for the 
divorce, spoke of the anguish which tlie stern 
necessity caused his affections, and declared his 
intention to invest the act with forms the most af- 
fectionate and the most honorable to Josephine. 

"I will have nothing" said he, "which can 
resemble a repudiation ; nothing but a mere 
dissolution of the conjugal tie, founded upon 
mutual consent ; a consent itself founded upon 
the interests of the empire. Josephine is to be 
provided with a palace in Paris, with a prince- 
ly residence in the country with an income of 
six hundred thousand dollars, and is to occupy 
the first rank among the princesses, after the 
future Empress. I wish ever to keep her near 
me as my best and most affectionate friend." 

Josephine was in some degree aware of the 
doom which was impending, and her heart w^as 
consumed by unmitigated grief Hortense, 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. 159 

The dreadful announcement. 

who also was heart-strioken and world-weaiy, 
was entreated by the Emperor to prepare her 
mother for the sad tidings. She did so, but 
very imperfectly. At last the fatal hour ar- 
rived in which it was necessary for the Empe- 
ror to make the dreaded announcement to the 
Emi)ress. They^' were both at Fontainebleau, 
and Hortense was with her mother. For some 
time there had been much constraint in the in- 
tercourse between the Emperor and Empress; 
he dreading to make the cruel communication, 
and her heart lacerated with anguish in the ap- 
prehension of receiving it. 

It was the last day of November, 1809, cold 
and cheerless. Napoleon and Josephine dined 
alone in silence, not a word being spoken dur- 
ing the repast. At the close of the meal, Na- 
poleon, pale and trembling, took the hand of 
the Empress and said: 

"Josephine, my own good Josephine, you 
know how I have loved you. It is to you 
alone that I owe the few moments of happiness 
I have known in the world. Josephine, my 
destiny is stronger than my will. My dearest 
affections must yield to the welfare of France." 

All-expected as the blow was, it was none 
the less dreadful. Josephine fell, apparently 



160 HORTENSE. [1809. 



Anguish of the Imperial family. 



lifeless, to the floor. The Count de Beaumont 
was immediately summoned, and, with the aid 
of Napoleon, conveyed Josephine to her apart- 
ment. Hortense came at once to her mother, 
whom she loved so tenderly. The anguish of 
the scene overcame lier. In respectful, tliough 
reproachful tones, she said to the Emperor, 
"My mother will descend from the throne, as 
she ascended it, in obedience to your will. 
Her children, content to renounce grandeurs 
which have not made them happy, will gladly 
go and devote their lives to comforting the 
best and the most affectionate of mothers." 

Napoleon was entirely overcome. He sat 
down and wept bitterly. Eaising his eyes 
swimming in tears to his daughter, he said: 

" Do not leave me, Hortense. Stay by me 
with Eugene. Help me to console your moth- 
er and render her calm, resigned, and even hap- 
py in remaining my friend, while she ceases to 
be my wife." 

Eugene was summoned from Italy. Upon 
bis arrival his sister threw herself into his arms, 
and, after a brief interview of mutual ans^uish, 
led him to their beloved mother. After a short 
interview with her, he repaired to the cabinet 
of the Emperor. In respectful terms, but firm 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. 161 

Noble conduct of Eugene. 

and very sad, he inquired if Napoleon intended 
to obtain a divorce from the Empress. Napo- 
leon, who tenderly loved his noble son, could 
only reply with the pressure of the hand. Eu- 
gene immediately recoiled and, withdrawing his 
hand, said : 

" In that case. Sire, permit me to retire from 
your service." 

" How," exclaimed Napoleon, looking sadly 
upon him. " Will you, my adopted son, for- 
sake me ?" 

" Yes, Sire," Eugene replied. '' The son of 
her who is no longer Empress, can not remain 
viceroy. I will follow my mother into her re- 
treat. She must now find her consolation in 
her children." 

Tears filled the eyes of the Emperor. " You 
know," said he, " the stern necessity which 
comjDels this measure. Will you forsake me? 
Who then, should I have a son, the object of 
my desires and preserver of my interests, who 
will watch over the child when I am absent? 
If I die, who will prove to him a father ? Who 
will bring him up? Who is to make a man 
of him ?" 

Napoleon and Eugene then retired to the 
garden, and for a long time walked, arm in arm, 
11 



162 IIORTENSE. [1809. 



The divorce. 



up und down one of its avenues, engn^ed in 
earnest conversation. Josephine, with a moth- 
er's love, could not forget the intsrests of her 
children, even in her own anguish. 

" The Emperor," she said to Eugene, " ia 
your beneflxctor, your more than father; to 
whom you are indebted for every thing, and to 
whom thei^fore you owe boundless obedience." 

A fortnight passed away and the 15th of 
December arrived; the day appointed for the 
consummation of this cruel sacrifice. The af- 
fecting scene transpired in the grand saloon of 
the palace of the Tuileries. All the members 
of the imperial family were present. Eugene 
and Hortense were with their mother, sus- 
taining her with their sympathy and love. An 
extreme pallor overspread the countenance of 
Napoleon, as he addressed the assembled digni- 
taries of the empire. 

"The political interests of my monarchy," 
said he, "and the wishes of my people, which 
have constantly guided my actions, require that 
I should transmit to an heir, inheriting my 
love for the people, the throne on which Prov- 
idence has placed me. For many years I have 
lost all hope of having children by my beloved 
spouse the Empress Josephine. It is this con- 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. 163 



The scene of the div( 



sideration which induces me to sacrifice the 
dearest affections of my heart, to consult only 
the good of my subjects, and to desire the disso- 
lution of our marriage. Arrived at the age of 
forty years, I may indulge the reasonable hope 
of living long enough to rear, in the spirit of 
my own thoughts and disposition, the children 
with which it may please Providence to bless 
me. God knows how much such a determi- 
nation has cost my heart. But there is no sac- 
rifice too great for my courage when it is 
proved to be for the interest of France. Far 
from having any cause of complaint, I have 
nothing to say but in praise of the attachment 
and tenderness of my beloved wife. She has 
embellished fifteen years of my life, and the re- 
membrance of them will be forever en (graven 
on my heart. She was crowned by my hand. 
She shall always retain the rank and title of 
Empress. Above all, let her never doubt my 
affection, or regard me but as her best and dear- 
est friend." 

Josephine now endeavored to fulfill her part 
in this sad drama. Unfolding a paper, she 
vainly strove to read her assent to the divorce. 
But tears blinded her eyes and emotion choked 
her voice. Handing the paper to a friend and 



164 HORTENSE. [1809. 



Tlie gceiie of the divorce. 



sobbing aloud, she sank into a chair and buried 
her face in her handkerchief. Her friend, M. 
Reynaud, read the paper, which was as follows : 
" With the permission of my august and 
dear spouse, I must declare that, retaining no 
hope of having children who may satisfy the 
requirements of his policy and the interests of 
France, I have the pleasure of giving him the 
greatest proof of attachment and devotedness 
which was ever given on earth. I owe all to 
his bount3\ It was his hand that crowned me, 
and on his throne I have received only mani- 
festations of love and affection from the French 
people. I respond to all the sentiments of the 
Emperor, in consenting to the dissolution of a 
marriage which is now an obstacle to the hap- 
piness of France, by depriving it of the blessing 
of being one day governed by the descendants 
of that great man who was evidently raised up 
by Providence to efface the evils of a terrible 
revolution, and to restore the altar, the throne, 
and social order. But the dissolution of my 
marriage will in no respect change the senti- 
ments of my heart. The Emperor will ever 
find in me his best friend. I know how much 
this act, commanded hy policy and exalted in- 
terests, has rent his heart. But we both glory 



■^s^''m^W^K>^i^ vwis^'MSS^'iii- ^::smp'k:^ , 




THE DIVORCE AXNOUXCED. 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. 167 



The legal consummation. 



in the sacrifices we make for the good of the 
country." 

" After these words," says Thiers, " the no- 
blest ever uttered under such circumstances — 
for never, it must be confessed, did vulgar pas- 
sions less prevail in an act of this kind — Na- 
poleon, embracing Josephine, led her to her 
own apartment, where he left her, almost faint- 
ing, in the arms of her children." 

The next day the Senate was convened in 
the grand saloon to sanction the legal consum- 
mation of the divorce. Eugene presided. As 
he announced the desire of the Emperor and 
Empress for the dissolution of their marriage, 
he said : " The tears of his Majesty at this sep- 
aration are sufficient for the glory of my moth- 
er." The description of the remaining scenes 
of this cruel tragedy we repeat from " Abbott's 
Life of Napoleon." 

" The Emperor, di'essed in the robes of state, 
and pale as a statue of marble, leaned against 
a pillar, careworn and wretched. Folding his 
arms upon his breast, with his eyes fixed upon 
vacancy, he stood in gloomy silence. It was 
a funereal scene. The low hum of mournful 
voices alone disturbed the stillness of the room. 
A circular table was placed in the centre of the 



168 HORTENSE. [1809. 



The scene of the divorce. 



apartment. Upon it there was a writing ap- 
paratus of gold. A vacant arm-chair stood 
before the table. The company gazed silently 
upon it as the instrument of the most soul-har- 
rowing execution. 

"A side door opened, and Josephine entered. 
Her face was as white as the simple muslin 
robe which she wore. She was leaning upon 
the arm of Hortense, who, not possessing the 
fortitude of her mother, was sobbing convul- 
sively. The whole assembly, upon the en- 
trance of Josephine, instinctively arose. All 
were moved to tears. With her own peculiar 
grace, Josephine advanced to the seat provided 
for her. Leaning her pale forehead upon her 
hand, she listened with the calmness of stupor 
to the reading of the act of separation. The 
convulsive sobbings of Hortense, mingled with 
the subdued and mourn lul tones of the reader's 
voice, added to the tragic impressiveness of the 
scene. Eugene, pale and trembling, stepped 
forward and took a position by the side of his 
adored mother, to give her the moral support 
of his near presence. 

" As soon as the reading of the act of separa- 
tion was finished, Josephine, for a moment, in 
anguish pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. IGD 



Josephine, Eugene, Hortense. 



and rising, in tones dear, musical, but tremulous 
with repressed emotion, pronounced the oath 
of acceptance. She sat down, took the pen, 
and affixed her signature to the deed which 
sundered the dearest hopes and the fondest ties 
which human hearts can feel. Eugene could 
endure this anguish no longer. His brain 
reeled, his heart ceased to beat, and fainting, 
he fell senseless to the floor. Josephine and 
Hortense retired, with the attendants who bore 
out the inanimate form of the affectionate son 
and brother. It was a fitting termination of 
the heart-rending yet sublime tragedj^ 

''Josephine remained in her chamber over- 
whelmed with speechless grief A sombre 
night darkened over the city, oppressed by the 
gloom of this cruel sacrifice. Tiie hour arrived 
at which Napoleon usually retired for sleep. 
Tlie Emperor, restless and wretched, had just 
placed himself in the bed from which he had 
ejected his faithful and devoted wife, when the 
private door of his chamber was slowly opened, 
and Josephine tremblingly entered. 

" Her eyes were swollen with weeping, her 
hair disordered, and she appeared in all the 
dishabille of unutterable anguish. Hardly 
conscious of what she did, in the delirium of 



170 HORTENSE. [1809. 

Affecting interview. 

her woe, she tottered into the middle of the 
room and approached the bed of her former hus- 
band. Then irresolutely stopping, she buried 
her face in her hands and burst into a flood of 
tears. 

" A feeling of delicacy seemed, for a moment, 
to have arrested her steps — a consciousness 
that she had now no right to enter the cham- 
ber of Napoleon. In another moment all the 
pent-up love of her heart burst forth, and for- 
getting every thing in tlie fulhiess of her an- 
guish, she threw herself upon the bed, clasped 
Napoleon's neck in her arms, and exclaiming. 
'My husband! my husband!' sobbed as though 
her heart were breaking. The imperial spirit 
of Napoleon was entirely vanquished. He 
also wept con V nisi ve]}^ lie assured Josephine 
of his love — of his ardent, undying love. In 
every way he tried to soothe and comfort her. 
For some time they remained locked in each 
other's embrace. The valet-de-chambre, who 
was still present, was dismissed, and for an 
hour Napoleon and Josephine continued to- 
gether in this their last private interview. 
Josephine then, in the experience of an in- 
tensity of anguish such as few human hearts 
have ever known, parted forever from- the Ims- 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. 171 

Grief of Napoleon. 

hand whom she had so long and so faithfully 
loved." 

Josephine having withdrawn, an attendant 
entered the apartment to remove the lights. 
He found the Emperor so buried beneath the 
bedclothes as to be invisible. Not a word 
was uttered. The lights were removed, and 
the unhappy monarch was left alone in dark- 
ness and silence to the melancholy companion- 
ship of his own thoughts. The next morning 
the death-like pallor of his cheek, his sunken 
eye, and the haggard expression of his counte- 
nance, attested that the Emperor had passed 
the night in sleeplessness and in suffering. 

The grief of Napoleon was unquestionably 
sincere. It could not but be so. He was in- 
fluenced by no vagrant passion. He had 
formed no new attachment. He truly loved 
Josephine. He consequently resolved to re- 
tire for a time to the seclusion of Trianon, at 
Versailles. He seemed desirous that the ex- 
ternals of mourning should accompany an 
event so mournful. 

"The orders for the departure for Trianon," 
writes the Baron Meneval, Napoleon^s private 
secretary, '' had been previously given. When 
in the morning the Emperor was informed 



172 HORTENSE. [1809. 



Testimony of Baron Meneval. 



that his carriages were ready, he took his hat 
and said, 'Meneval, come with me.' I follow- 
ed him by the little winding staircase which, 
from his cabinet, communicated with the 
apartment of the Empress. Josephine was 
alone, and appeared absorbed in the most mel- 
ancholy reflections. At the noise which we 
made in entering, she eagerly rose and threw 
herself sobbing upon the neck of the Emperor. 
He pressed her to his bosom with the most ar- 
dent embraces. 

"In the excess of her emotion she fliinted. 
I rang the bell for succor. The Emperor 
wishing to avoid the renewal of scenes of an- 
guish which he coffld no longer alleviate, 
placed the Empress in my arms as soon as she 
began to revive. Directing me not to leave 
her, he hastily retired to his carriage which 
was waiting for him at the door. The Em- 
press, perceiving the departure of the Emperor, 
redoubled her tears and moans. Her women 
placed her upon a sofa. She seized my hands, 
and frantically urged me to entreat Napoleon 
not to forget her, and to assure him that her 
love would survive every event. 

" She made me promise to write her imme- 
diately on my arrival at Trianon, and to see 



1809.] Divorce of Josji:phine. 173 

Letter from Napoleon to Josephine. 



that the Emperor wrote to her also. She 
could hardly consent to let me go, as if my de- 
parture would break the last tie which stili 
connected her with the Emperor. I left her, 
deeply moved by the exhibition of a grief 
so true and an attachment so sincere. I was 
profoundly saddened during my ride, and I 
could not refrain from deploring the rigorous 
exigencies of state which rudely sundered the 
ties of a long-tried affection, to impose another 
union offering only uncertainties. Having ar- 
rived at Trianon, I gave the Emperor a faith- 
ful account of all that had transpired after his 
departure. He was still oppressed by the mel- 
ancholy scenes through which he had passed. 
He dwelt upon the noble qualities of Jose- 
phine, and upon the sincerity of the affection 
which she cherished for him. He ever after 
preserved for her the most tender attachment. 
The same evening he wrote to her a letter to 
console her solitude." The letter was as fol- 
lows : 

'' My love, I found you to-day more feeble 
than you ought to be. You have exhibited 
much fortitude, and it is necessary that you 
should still continue to sustain yourself You 
>.nust not yield to funereal melancholy. Strive 



17-i HORTENSE. [1809. 

The retirement of Josephine. 

to be tranquil, and, above all, to preserve your 
health, which is so precious to me. If you are 
attached to me, if you love me, you must 
maintain your energy and strive to be cheer- 
ful. You can not doubt my constancy and 
my tender affection. You know too well all 
the sentiments with which I regard you to 
suppose that I can be happy if you areunhap- 
P3^, that I can be serene if you are agitated. 
Adieu, -my love. Sleep well. Believe that I 
wish it. Napoleon." 

After the departure of the Emperor, at elev- 
en o'clock in the morning all the household of 
the Tuileries were assembled upon the grand 
staircase, to witness the retirement of their be- 
loved mistress from the scenes where she had 
so long been the brightest ornament. Jose- 
phine descended from her apartment veiled 
from head to foot. Her emotions were too 
deep for utterance. Silently she waved an 
adieu to the affectionate and weeping friends 
who surrounded her. A close carriasfe with 
six horses was before the door. She entered 
it, sank back npon the cushions, buried her 
face in her handkerchief, and, sobbing bitterly, 
left the Tuileries forever. 



1S09.] DivoRCEOF Josephine. 175 

Josephine at Malraaison. 

After the divorce, Josephine spent most of 
her time at the beautiful chateau of Malmaison, 
which had been assigned to her, or at the pal- 
ace of Navarre, which was embellished for her 
at an expense of two hundred thousand dollars. 
She retained the title of Empress, and received 
a jointure of about six hundred thousand dol- 
lars a year. Almost daily letters were ex- 
changed between her and the Emperor, and he 
frequently visited her. But from motives of 
delicacy he never saw her alone. We know 
of nothing more pathetic in history than the 
gleams we get of these interviews, as revealed 
in the "Confidential letters of Napoleon and 
Josephine," whose publication was authorized 
by Queen Hortense, after the death of her 
mother. Josephine, in the following words, 
describes one of these interviews at Malmaison. 
It was after the marrias^e with Maria Louisa. 

" I was one day painting a violet, a flower 
which recalled to my memory my more happy 
days, when one of my women ran towards me 
and made a sign by placing her finger upon 
her lips. The next moment I was overpow- 
ered — I beheld Napoleon. He threw himself 
with transport into the arms of his old friend. 
Oh, then I was convinced that 'he could still 



176 riORTENSE. [1809. 

liitei'vitnv betweeu Napoleon and Josephine. 

love me ; for that man really loved me. It 
seemed impossible for bim to cease gazing 
upon me, and bis look was tbat of tender af- 
fection. At lengtb, in a tone of deepest com- 
passion and love, he said : 

" ' My dear Josephine, I have always loved 
you. I love you still. Do you still love me, 
excellent and good Josephine ? Do you still 
love me, in spite of the relations I have again 
contracted, and which have separated me from 
you? But they have not banished you from 
my memory.' 

"'Sire,' I replied— 

" ' Call me Bonaparte,' said he ; ' speak to 
me, my beloved, with the same freedom, the 
same flxmiliarily as ever.' 

"Bonaparte soon disappeared, and I heard 
only the sound of his retiring footsteps. Oh, 
how quickly does every thing take place on 
earth. I had once more felt the pleasure of 
being loved." 

In reference to this melancholy event, N"a° 
poleon said, at Saint Helena : 

"My divorce has no parallel in historj^ It 
did not destroy the ties which united our fami- 
lies, and our mutual tenderness remained un- 
changed. Our separation was a sacrifice, de< 



1809.] Divorce of Josephine. 177 

Napoleon's remarks on his divorce. 

manded of us by reason, for the interests of my 
crown and of my dynasty. Josephine was de- 
voted to me. She loved me tenderly. No one 
ever had a preference over me in her heart. I 
occupied the first place in it, her children the 
next. She was right in thus loving me ; and 
the remembrance of her is still all-powerful in 
my mind. Josephine was really an amiable 
woman : she was so kind, so humane. She 
was the best woman in France. 

"A son, by Josephine, would have completed 
my happiness, not only in a political pomt of 
view, but as a source of domestic felicity. As 
a political result it would have secured to me 
the possession of the throne. The French peo- 
ple would have been as much attached to the 
son of Josephine as they were to the King of 
Eome, and I should not have set my foot on 
an abj^ss covered with a bed of flowers. But 
how vain are all human calculations! Who 
can pretend to decide on what may lead to 
happiness or unhappiness in this life!" 

The divorce of Josephine, strong as were the 
political motives which led to it, was a viola- 
tion of the immutable laws of God. Like all 
wrong-doing, however seemingly prosperous 
for a time, it promoted final disaster and woe. 
12 



178 HORTENSE. [1809. 

Sin of the divorce. 

Doubtless Kapoleon, educated in the midst of 
those convulsions which had shaken all the 
foundations of Christian moralitj^, did not clear- 
ly perceive the extent of the wrong. He un- 
questionably felt that he was doing right; that 
the interests of France demanded the sacrifice. 
But the penalty was none the less inevitable. 
The laws of God can not be violated with im- 
punity, even though the violation be a sin of 
ignorance. 



1810.] Death of Josephine. 179 

Marriage of Napoleon and Maria Louisa. 



Chapter YI. 
The Death of Josephine. 

FEOM the sad scenes described in the last 
chapter, Eugene returned to Italy. Hor- 
tense, in the deepest state of dejection, remain- 
ed for a short time in Paris, often visiting her- 
mother at Malmaison. About five months af- 
ter the divorce, Napoleon was again married 
to Maria Louisa, daughter of the Emperor 
of Austria. The marriage ceremony was first 
celebrated with great pomp in Vienna, Napo- 
poleon being represented by proxy; and again 
the ceremony was repeated in Paris. It de- 
volved upon Ilortense, as the daughter of Na- 
poleon, and the most prominent lady of his 
household, to receive with smiles of welcome 
and cordiality of greeting the princess who 
took the place of her mother. Seldom has it 
been the lot of a woman to pass through a 
more painful ordeal. Josephine, that she 
might be far removed from the tumult of Par- 
is, rejoicing upon the arrival of Maria Louisa, 
retired from Malmaison to the more distant 



180 HORTENSE. [1810. 

Hortense goes to Navarre. 

palace of Navarre. Soon after the marriage, 
Hortense hastened to join her mother there. 
There was at this time but little sympathy be- 
tween Hortense and her husband. The power 
of a great sorrow in the death of their eldest 
son had for a short time brought them more 
closely together. There was, however, but lit- 
tle compatibility in their tastes and disposi- 
tions ; and Hortense, deeming it her duty to 
comfort her mother, and finding more congeni- 
ality in her society than in that of her hus- 
band, made but brief visits to Holland. 

It is easy for the prosperous and the happy 
to be amiable. Hortense was in a state of 
great physical debility, and almost every hope 
of her life had been crushed out. The letters 
of Hortense to Josephine have not been made 
public. We can only judge of their character 
from the replies which her mother made. 
From these it would appear that scarcely did 
a ray of joy illumine the gloomy path which 
she was destined to tread. On the 4th of 
April, 1810, Josephine wrote to Hortense from 
Navarre : 

" I am touched, my dear Hortense, with all 
the griefs which you experience. I hope that 
there is no more question of your return to 



1810.] Death of Josephine. 181 

Letter fiom Josephine. 

Holland, and that you will have a little repose. 
I know how much you must suffer from these 
disappointments, but I entreat you not to allow 
yourself to be affected by them. As long as 
any thing remains to me you shall be mistress 
of your destiny; grief and happiness — you 
know that I share all with you. 

" Take, then, a little courage, my dear daugh- 
ter. We both of us have much need of it. 
Often mine is too feeble, and sorrow makes me 
sick. But I seek fortitude all the time, and 
with my utmost efforts." 

Soon after this Hortense, taking her two 
children with her, rejoined her husband, King 
Louis, in Holland. Josephine wrote to her on 
the 10th of May, from Navarre : 

"I have received your letter, my dear Hor- 
tense, and I see, with much pain, that your 
health is not good. I hope that repose will 
re-establish it; and I can not doubt that the 
king will contribute to it every thing in his 
power, by his attentions and his attachments. 
Every day will lead him to see more and more 
how much you merit. Take care of yourself, 
my dear daughter; you know how much I 
have need of you. My heart has suffered to 
a degree which has somewhat impaired my 



182 HORTENSE. [1810 

Letter from Josephine. 

health. But fortitude triumphs over sorrow, 
and I begin to be a little better." 

Again, on the 15th, the Empress wrote to 
Hortense, who was still in Amsterdam: 

" I have been extremely anxious on account 
of your health, my dear Hortense. I know 
that you have experienced several attacks of 
fever, and I have need to be tranquilized. 

"Your letter of the 10th has just reached me, 
but it has not given me the consolation I had 
hoped for. I see in it an abandonment of 
yourself, which gives me great pain. How 
many ties are there which should bind you to 
life ! And if you have so little affection for 
me, is it then, when I am no longer happy, 
that you can think, with so much tranquillity, 
of leaving me? 

"Take courage, my daughter, and especially 
be careful of your health. I am confident, as 
I have already sent you word, that the waters 
which have been prescribed for you will do 
you good. Speak of it to the king with frank- 
ness. He certainly will not refuse you any 
thing which may be essential to your health. 
I am making all my arrangements to go to 
the springs in the month of June. But I do 
not think that I shall go to Aix-la-Chapelle, 



1810.] Death of Josephine. 183 

Letter from Josephine, 

but rather to Aix in Savoy, which place I pre- 
fer. 

" Diversion of mind is necessary for my 
health, and I have more hope of finding that 
in a place which I have never seen, and whose 
situation is picturesque. The waters of Aix 
are particularly efficacious for the nerves. I 
earnestly recommend you to take them instead 
of those of Plombieres. We can pass the time 
together. Reply to me immediately upon this 
subject. We can lodge together. It will not 
be necessary for you to take many companions 
with you. I shall take but very few, intend- 
ing to travel incognito. To-morrow I go to 
Malmaison, where I shall remain until I leave 
for the springs. I see with pleasure that the 
health of Louis Napoleon is good, and that he 
has not suffered from the change of air. Em- 
brace him for me, ray dear Hortense, and love 
me as tenderly as I love you. 

"Josephine. 

"P. S. — Remember me to the king." 

For some unexplained reason, Hortense re- 
paired first to the waters of Plombieres. Her 
youngest son, Louis Napoleon, was sent to 
Malmaison, to be with Josephine, who so fondly 



184 HOKTENSE. [1810. 



Letter from Josephine. 



loved the child that she was quite unwilling 
to be separated from him. Hortense took her 
elder child, Napoleon Louis, with her to the 
springs. Here she was taken very sick. On 
the 14th of June Josephine wrote her from 
Malmaison: 

"I did not know how much you had suffer- 
ed, my dear Hortense, until you were better ; 
but I had a presentiment of it, and my anxiety 
induced me to write to one of your ladies, to 
indicate to her the telegraph from Nancy, as a 
prompt resource to call a physician. You ask 
me what I am doing. I had yesterday a day 
of happiness. The Emperor came to see me. 
His presence made me happ}^, although it re- 
newed my grief. These are emotions such as 
one could wish often to experience. 

"All the time he remained with me I had 
sufficient fortitude to restrain the tears which I 
felt were ready to flow. But after he had left, 
I had no longer power to restrain them, and I 
found myself very unhappy. He was kind to 
me, and amiable as ever; and I hope that he 
will have read in my heart all the affection 
and all the devotion with which I cherish him. 

"I spoke to him of your situation, and he 
listened to me with interest. He is of opinion 



1810.] Death of Josephine. 185 



Letter from Josephine. 



that you should not return to Holland, the 
king not having conducted as he would wish 
to have him. The opinion of the Emperor is 
that you should take the waters for the neces- 
sary time; that you should then write to your 
husband that it is the opinion of your physi- 
cians that you should reside in a warm climate 
for some time, and that consequently you are 
going to Italy. As to your son, the Emperor 
will give orders that he is not to leave France. 
"I hope to see you, perhaps at Aix in Sa- 
voy, if the waters at Plombi^res do not agree 
with you ; perhaps in Switzerland, where the 
Emperor has permitted me to journey. We 
shall be able to appoint for ourselves a rendez- 
vous where we may meet. Then I will relate 
to you with the living voice those details 
which it would require too much time to 
write. I intend to leave next Monday for 
Aix in Savoy. I shall travel incognito, under 
the name of Madame d'Aubery. Your son 
(Louis Napoleon), who is now here, is very 
well. He has rosy cheeks and a fair skin." 

Immediately upon Josephine's arrival at Aix, 
she wrote again to Hortense, who was still at 
Plombieres, a letter expressive of great anxiety 
for her health and happiness, and entreating 



186 HORTENSE. [1810. 



Louis Bonaparte abdicates. 



her to come and join her at Aix. " How I 
regret," she wrote, " not having known, before 
my departure, the true state of your health. I 
should have been at Plombieres to take care 
of you, and I should not have experienced the 
anxiety which tortures me at this great dis- 
tance. My only consolation is to think that 
you will soon come here. Let me soon see 
you. Alone, desolate, far from all my friends, 
and in the midst of strangers, yoi\ can judge 
how sad I am, and all the need I have of your 
presence." 

In July, Louis Bonaparte abdicated the 
throne of Holland. Hortense wrote to her 
mother all the details of the event. Josephine 
engaged a cottage at Aix for herself and Hor- 
tense. She wrote to Hortense on the 18th of 
July : 

" I am delighted with the resolution you 
have taken to come here. I am occupied, in 
])reparing your lodgings, more pleasantly than 
I could have hoped. A gentleman here has 
relinquished his house. I have accepted it, 
for it is delightfully situated, and the view is 
enchanting. The houses here are very small, 
but that which you will inhabit is larger. You 
can ride anywhere in a caliche. You will be 



1810.] Death of Josephine. 187 



Madame Broc. 



very glad to have your own. I have mine, 
and I ride out in it every day. Adieu, my 
dear Hortense. I am impatient for the mo. 
ment when I can embrace you." 

As it was not deemed proper for the young 
princes, the sons of Hortense, to leave France, 
they were both left at the chateau of St. Cloud, 
while Hortense visited her mother at Aix. 
The devoted friend of Hortense, Madame Broc, 
to whom we have previously alluded, accom- 
panied the ex-queen to Aix. The two friends 
frequently enjoyed long walks together in that 
region full of picturesque scenerj^ Hortense 
had a very keen appreciation of the beauties 
of nature, and had attained much excellence 
as a landscape painter. Aix, from its deep re- 
tirement and physical grandeur, became quite 
a favorite retreat. She had but little heart for 
any society but that of the solitudes of nature. 

About the first of October Hortense return- 
ed, by the advice of the Emperor, to Fontaine- 
bleau, where she w\as reunited to her two sons. 
Josephine was, in the mean time, taking a short 
tour in Switzerland. We have previously 
spoken of Hortense's taste for music, and her 
skill as a composer. One of the airs, or ro- 
mances^ as they were called, composed by Hor- 



188 HORTENSE. [1811. 

" Partant pour la Syrie." 



tense still retains in Europe perhaps unsurpass- 
ed popularity. It was termed familiarly Beau 
DunoiSj or the Knight Errant. Its full title was 
^ ^ Partant jpour la Syrie^ lejeune et heaii Dunoisr^ 
Josephine, writing from Geneva to Hortense 
at Fontainebleau, says: "I have heard sung 
all over Switzerland your romance of Beau Du- 
nois! I have even heard it played upon the 
piano with beautiful variations." Josephine 
soon returned to Navarre, which at that time 
she preferred to Malmaison, as it was farther 
removed from the capital, and from the tumult 
of joy with which the birth of the child of 
Maria Louisa would be received. On the 20th 
of March, 1811, all France resounded with ac- 
clamations at the birth of the young King of 
Rome. Hortense, devoting herself to her chil- 
dren, hemained in Paris and its environs. In 
the autumn of this year Josephine left Na- 
varre, and returned to Malmaison to spend 
the winter there. Hortense and her husband, 
though much estranged from each other, and 
living most of the time apart, were still not 

* riie writer remembers that forty years ago this was a 
favorite song in this countrj'. At Bowdoin College it was the 
popular college song. It is now, in France, one of the favor- 
ite national airs. 



1812.] Death of Josephine. 189 

Illness of Napoleon- Louis. 

formally separated, and occasionally dwelt to- 
gether. The ostensible cause of the frequent 
absence of Hortense from her husband was the 
state of her health, rendering it necessary for 
her to make frequent visits to the springs, and 
the griefs of her mother requiring often the 
solace of her daughter's presence. 

Louis Bonaparte owned a very beautiful es- 
tate, called St. Leu, in France. Early in IMay, 
1812, Napoleon left Paris for the fatal cam- 
paign to Moscow. Just before his departure, 
he called at Malmaison and took an affection- 
ate leave of Josephine. Hortense was at St. 
Leu, with her children. After a short visit 
which Josephine made to St. Leu, and which 
she describes as delightful, she returned to Mal- 
maison, and Hortense went to the springs of 
Aix-la-Chapelle, taking her two children with 
her. Here Napoleon Louis was attacked with 
scarlet fever, "which caused his mother and the 
Empress great anxiety. 

Josephine wrote to her, on the 28th of July: 
" You are very kind not to have forgotten me 
in the midst of your anxiety for j'Our son. Em- 
brace for me that dear child, and my little Oui 
OuV (yes, yes).* Again she wrote, two days 

* Oui Oui was the pet name given to little Lo^s Napoleon. 



190 HORTENSE. [1812. 



Letter from Eugene. 



after: "I hope that our dear Napoleon contin- 
ues to improve, and that the little Qui Oui is 
doing welL" Eugene, leaving his amiable and 
much -loved wife and little family at Milan, 
had accompanied Napoleon on his Eussian 
campaign. During his absence Josephine vis- 
ited Milan, and there, as everywhere else, won 
the love of all who saw her. Hortense, wnth 
her children, was most of the time in Paris. 
Eugene, immediately after the terrible battle 
of Borodino, wrote as follows to Josephine. 
His letter was dated September 8, 1812. 

"My GOOD Mother, — I write you from the 
field of battle. The Emperor has gained a 
great victory over the Russians. The battle 
lasted thirteen hours. I commanded the right, 
and hope that the Emperor wnll be satisfied. 

"I can not sufficiently thank you'for your 
attentions and kindness to my little family. 
You are adored at Milan, as everywhere else. 
They write me most charming accounts of you, 
and you have won the love of every one with 
whom 3^ou have become acquainted. Adieu! 
Please give tidings of me to m}- sister. I will 
write her to-morrow. Your affectionate son, 

"Eugene." 



1813.] Death of Josephine. 191 



Napoleon arrives in Paris. 



The latter part of October of this year, 1812, 
Napoleon commenced his awful retreat from 
Moscow. Josephine and Hortense were much 
of the time together in a state of indescribable 
suspense and anguish. At midnight, on the 
18th of December, Napoleon arrived in Paris. 
The disasters in Eussia had caused a new coa- 
lition of all the dynasties against France. The 
Emperor of Austria, unmindful of the marriage 
of his daughter with Napoleon, had joined the 
coalition with all the military powers of his 
empire. The majestic army with which Na- 
poleon had invaded Eussia was almost annihi- 
lated, and nearly two millions of bayonets 
were now directed against the Eepublican Em- 
pire. 

All France rose with enthusiasm to co-oper- 
ate with Napoleon in his endeavors to resist 
the thronging foes. By the middle of April, 
nearly three hundred thousand men w^ere on 
the march from France towards Germany, gal- 
lantly to meet the onswelling flood of more 
than a million of bayonets. On the 15th of 
April, 1813, at four o'clock in the morning. Na- 
poleon left St. Cloud for the seat of war. The 
terrific campaign of Lutzen, Bautzen, Dresden, 
and Leipsic ensued. 



192 HORTENSE. [1813. 



Letter from Josephine. 



Days of darkness were lowering around the 
Empire. The health of Hortense rendered it 
necessary for her to go to the springs of Aix in 
Savoy. Her two children were left with her 
mother at Malmaison. Under date of June 
11. 1813, the Empress wrote to her daughter: 

" I have received your letter of the 7th, my 
dear Hortense. I see with pleasure that you 
have already been benefited by the waters. I 
advise you to continue them, in taking, as you 
do, a few days of repose. Be very tranquil 
respecting your children. They are perfectly 
well. Their complexion is of the lily and the 
rose. I can assure you that since they have 
been here they have not had the slightest in- 
disposition. I must relate to you a very 
pretty response on the part of Old Old. The 
Abbe Bertrand caused him to read a fable 
where there was a question about vielamorpho- 
sis. Being called to explain the word, he said 
to the abbe : 

" ' I wish I could change myself into a little 
bi-rd, I would then fly away at the hour of 
your lesson ; but I would return when M. Hase 
(his teacher of German) arrived.' 

"*But, prince,' remarked the abbe, 'it is not 
very polite for you to say that to me.' ' Oh/ 




THE DEATH OF MADAME BKOC. 



1813.] Death of Josephine. 195 



Death of Madame Br( 



replied Old Oid, ' that which I say is only for 
the lesson, not for the man.' 

"Do you not think, with me, that that rep- 
artee was YQYj spintuellef It was impossible 
for him to extricate himself from the embar- 
rassment with more delicacy and gracefulness. 
Your children were with me when I received 
your letter. They were very happy to receive 
tidings from their mamma. Continue to write 
often, my dear daughter, for their sake and for 
mine. It is the only means to enable me to 
support your absence." 

While upon this visit to Aix, liortense was 
accompanied by her inseparable friend, Ma- 
dame Broc. One day Ilortense and Adele 
were ascending a mountain, whose summit 
commanded a very magniiicent view. Their 
path led over a deep, dark, craggy ravine, 
which was swept by a mountain torrent, foam- 
ing and roaring over the rocks. Alpine firs, 
casting a gloomy shade, clung to its sides. A 
frail rustic bridge crossed the chasm. Hor- 
tense with light step passed over in safety. 
Madame Broc followed. A piercing sliriek 
was heard, followed by a crash. As Hortense 
turned round she saw that the bridge had 
given way, and her companion was falling, 



196 HORTENSE. [1813. 



Horteuse at Aix. 



torn and mangled, from rock to rock, till the 
rushing torrent seized her and whirled her 
lifeless body down the gulf in its wild waters. 
There was no possibility of rescue. For a 
moment the fluttering robes of the unfortunate 
lady were seen in the midst of the surging 
flood, and then the body was swept away far 
down the dismal gorge. 

The shock which this frightful accident 
gave to the nerves of Hortense was like that 
which she experienced at the death of her son. 
For a time she seemed stunned by the blow, 
and reason tottered on its throne. Instead of 
flying from Aix, she lingered there. As soon 
as she partially recovered tranquillity, she 
sought to divert her grief by entering the 
abodes of sickness, sorrow, and suffering in 
the neio-hborhood, administerino' relief with 
her own hands. She established a hospital at 
Aix from her own private funds for the indi- 
gent, and, like an angel of mercy, clothed the 
naked and fed the hungr}^, and, while her own 
heart was breaking, spoke words of consolation 
to the world-weary. 

In reference to this event Josephine wrote 
from Malmaison to Hortense at Aix, under 
dateof June 16, 1813: 



1813.] Death of Josephine. 197 

Letter from Josephine. 

" What a horrible accident, my dear Hor- 
tense ! What a friend you have lost, and by 
what a frightful calamity ! Since yesterday, 
when I heard of it, I have been so horror- 
struck as not to be able to write to you. Ev- 
ery moment I have before my eyes the fate of 
that poor Adele. Every body is in tears for 
her. She was so beloved, so worthy of being 
beloved, by her excellent qualities and by her 
attachment for you. I can think of nothing 
but what condition you are in. I am so anx- 
ious, that I send my chamberlain, M. Turpin, 
to you, that he may give me more certain in- 
telligence respecting your health. I shall 
make haste to leave myself for a short time, 
that my presence and my care may be useful 
to you. I feel keenly your grief It is too 
well founded. But, my dear daughter, think 
of your children, who are so worthy of your 
love. Preserve yourself for them! Think 
also of your mother, who loves you tenderly. 

"Josephine." 

Thus blow after blow fell upon the heart 
of poor Hortense. Two days after the above 
date Josephine wrote again, in reply to a letter 
from her daughter : 



198 HOKTENSE. [1813. 



Letter from Josephine. 



"Your letter has reanimated me, my dear 
Hortense. ]ji the dejection in which I was, I 
experienced true consolation in seeing your 
hand-writing, and in being assured by your- 
self that you try to conquer your grief. I 
fully realize how much it must cost you. 
Your letter, so tender, so touching, has renew- 
ed my tears. Ever since this frightful accident 
1 have been sick. Alas! my dear daughter, 
you did not need this new trial. 

"I have embraced your children for you. 
They also are deeply afiiicted, and think of 
you very much. I am consoled in thinking 
that you will not forget us. I thank you for 
it, my dear Hortense, my daughter tenderly 
beloved." 

Again, a few days after, this affectionate 
mother wrote to her grief-stricken child : 

"I can not permit 3'our courier to leave 
without transmitting to you intelligence from 
me; without letting you know how much I 
think of you. I fear that 3'OU may surrender 
yourself too much to the grief which you have 
experienced. I shall not feel reassured until 
M. Turpin shall have returned. Think of 
your charming children, my dear Hortense. 
Think also of a mother who adores you, and 



1813.] Death of Josephine. 199 

Letter from Josephine. 

whom your life alone attaches to the world. I 
hope that all these motives will give you cour- 
age to support with more resignation the loss 
of a friend so tender. 

"I have just received a letter from Eugene, 
lie fully shares your grief, and desires that 
you should go and pass some time with him, 
if you have sufficient strength. I should be 
happy to know that you were with him. 
Your children are enjoying perfect health. 
They are truly interesting. It would, indeed, 
touch your feelings if you knew how much 
they think of you. Life is very precious, and 
one clings to it w^hen one has such good chil- 
dren. Adieu ! my daughter. Think often of 
a mother who loves you tenderly, and who 
tenderly embraces you." 

As nothing can more clearly reveal than do 
these confidential letters the character of Hor- 
tense, and the domestic relations of this illus- 
trious and afflicted family, I insert them freely. 
They give us a rare view of those griefs of 
our suffering humanity which are found in 
the palace no less than in the cottage. On 
the 29th of June, Josephine wrote again to 
Hortense : 

*'M. De Turpin has brought me your letter, 



200 HORTENSE. [1813. 

Letter from Josephine. 

my dear daughter I see with pain bow sad 
and melancholy you still are. But it is, at 
least, a great consolation to nie to be assured 
that your health has not severely suffered. 
Take courage, my dear Hortense. I liope that 
happiness will yet be your lot. You have 
passed through many trials. Have not all 
persons their griefs? The only difference is 
in the greater or less fortitude of soul with 
which one supports them. That wdiich-ought 
particularly to soothe your grief is that every 
one shares it with you. There are none who 
do not regret our poor Adele as much for 
themselves as for you. 

"Your children mourn over your sorrows. 
Every thing announces in them an excellent 
character, and a strong attachment for 3'OU. 
The more I see of them the more I love them. 
Nevertheless, I do not spoil them. Feel easy 
on their account. We follow exactly what 
you have prescribed for their regimen and 
their studies. When they have done well 
during the week, I invite them to breakfast 
and dine with me on the Sabbath. The proof 
that they are in good health is that they have 
grown much. Napoleon had one eye slightly 
inflamed yesterday from the sting of a gnat. 



1813.] Death of Josephine. 201 



Letter from Josephine. 



He was not, however, on that account, less 
well than usual. To-day it is no longer mani- 
fest. It would not be worth mentioning, were 
we not in the habit of rendering 3'ou an exact 
account of every thing which concerns them." 

On the 6th of August Josephine wrote as 
follows : 

"The beautiful days of summer have at 
last come with the month of August. I 
hope that they will strengthen 3'ou, my dear 
daughter. Your lungs will feel the influence 
of them, and the baths will do you much 
more good. I see with pleasure that you 
have not forgotten the years of your child- 
hood, and you are very kind to your mother 
in recalling them to her. I did right in mak- 
ing happy, too, children so good and so affec- 
tionate, and they have since abundantly rec- 
ompensed me for it. Your children will do 
the same for you, my dear Hortense. Their 
hearts resemble yours. They will never cease 
to love you. Their health is wonderfully 
good, and they have never been more fresh 
and vigorous. 

" The little Qui Out is alwaj^s gallant and 
amiable to me. Two days ago, in seeing Ma- 
dame Tascher leave us, who went to join her 



202 HORTENSE. [1813. 

Disasters to Napoleon. 

husband at the springs, he said to Madame 
Boucheporn : 

'"She must love her husband very much in- 
deed, to be willing, for him, to leave my grand- 
mother!' 

"Do you not think that was charming? 
On the same da}^ he went to walk in the 
woods of Butard. As soon as he was in the 
grand avenue, he threw his hat in the air, 
shouting, 'Oh, how I love beautiful nature!'* 

"Not a day passes in which some one is not 
amused by his amiability. The children ani- 
mate all around me. Judge if you have not 
rendered me happy in leaving them with me. 
I can not be more happy until the day when 
I shall see you." 

Disaster now followed disaster as the allied 
armies, in resistless numbers, crowded down 
upon France. The carnage of Dresden and 
Leipsic compelled the Emperor, in November, 
to return to Paris to raise reinforcements. 

* All will read wiih interest the above anecdotes of the 
childhood cf Louis Napoleon, now Emperor of France. His 
manhood has more than fulfilled even the great promise of 
his early days. The stories which have been circulated in 
this country respecting his early dissipation are entirely un- 
founded. They originated in an error by which another 
Prince Bonaparte Avas mistaken for him. 



1814.] Death of Josephine. 203 



Embarrassment of Maria Louisa. 



Though he had been victorious in ahnost ev- 
ery battle, still the surging billows of his foes, 
flowing in upon him from all directions, could 
not be rolled back. 

Maria Louisa was in a state of great em- 
barrassment, and dreaded to see her husband. 
Her father, the Emperor of Austria, at the head 
of an immense army, was marching against 
France. When Napoleon, returning from the 
terrific strife, entered her apartment, Maria 
Louisa threw herself into his arms, and, unable 
to utter a word, burst into a flood of tears. 
Napoleon, having completed his arrangements 
for still maintaining the struggle, on the 25th 
of January, 1814, embraced his wife and child, 
and returned to the seat of war. He never 
saw wife or child again. 

As his carriage left the door of the palace, 
the Emperor, pressing his forehead with his 
hand, said to Caulaincourt, who accompanied 
him, " I envy the lot of the meanest peasant 
of my empire. At my age he has discharged 
his debts to his countrj^, and may remain at 
home enjoying the society of his wife and chil- 
dren, while I — I must fly to the camp and en- 
gage in the strife of war. Such is the man- 
date of my inexplicable destiny." 



20-i HORTENSE. [1814. 

Napoleon's last interview with Josephine. 

After a moment's reverie, he added, " My 
good Louise is gentle and submissive. I can 
depend on her. Her love and fidelity will 
never fail me. In the current of events there 
may arise circumstances which will decide the 
fate of an empire. In that case I hope that 
the daughter of the Ca?sars will be inspired by 
the spirit of her grandmother, Maria Theresa." 

The struggle which ensued was short but 
awful. In the midst of these terrific scenes 
iS'apoleon kept up an almost daily correspond- 
ence with Josephine. On one occasion, when 
the surgings of the battle brought him within 
a few miles of Malmaison, he turned aside and 
sought a hurried interview with his most foith- 
ful friend. It was their last meeting. ]Kapo- 
leon took the hand of Josephine, and, gazing 
tenderly upon her, said : 

"Josephine, I have been as fortunate as ever 
was man upon the face of this earth. But in 
this hour, when a storm is gathering over my 
head, I have not in this wdde world any one 
but you upon whom I can repose." 

Soon after this, as the seat of war approach- 
ed nearer to Paris, Josephine found it necessa- 
ry to retire to Navarre. She wrote to Ilor- 
tense, on the 28th of March : " To-morrow I 



1814.] Death of Josephine. 205 

Josephine goes to Navarre. 

shall leave for Navarre. I have but sixteen 
men for a guard, and all wounded. I shall 
take care of them ; but in truth I have no 
need of them. I am so unhappy in being sep- 
arated from my children that I am indiflPerent 
r 'Specting my fate." 

At eight o'clock in the morning of the 29tli 
Josephine took her carriage for Navarre. The 
Allies were rapidly approaching Paris, and a 
state of indescribable consternation filled the 
streets of the metropolis. Several times on 
the route the Empress was alarmed by the cry 
that the Cossacks were coming. The day was 
dark and stormy, and the rain fell in torrents. 
The pole of the carriage broke as the wheels 
sunk in a rut. Just at that moment a troop 
of horsemen appeared in the distance. The 
Empress, in her terror, supposing them to be 
the barbarous Cossacks, leaped from the car- 
riage and fled through the fields. Was there 
ever a more cruel reverse of fortune? Jose- 
phine, the Empress of France, the admired of 
all Europe, in the frenzy of her alarm, rushing 
through the storm and the rain to seek refuge 
in the woods ! The troops proved to be French. 
Her attendants followed and informed her of 
the mistake. She agfain entered her carrinsfo, 



206 HORTENSE. [1814. 



Letter from Napoleon. 



and uttered scarcely a word during the rest of 
her journey. Upon entering the palace of 
Navarre, she threw herself upon a couch, ex- 
claiming: 

" Surely Bonaparte is ignorant of what is 
passing within sight of the gates of Paris, or, 
if he knows, how cruel the thoughts which 
must now agitate his breast." 

In a hurried letter which the Emperor wrote 
Josephine from Brienne, just after a desperate 
engagement with his vastly outnumbering foes, 
he said : 

" On beholding the scenes where I had pass- 
ed my boyhood, and comparing my peaceful 
condition then with the agitation and terrors I 
now experience, I several times said, in my 
own mind, ' I have sought to meet death in 
many conflicts. I can no longer fear it. To 
me death would now be a blessing. But I 
would once more see Josephine.' " 

Immediately after Josephine's arrival at ISTa- 
varre, she wrote to Hortense, urging that she 
should join her at that place. In the letter she 
said : 

" I can not tell you how sad I am. I have 
had fortitude in afflicted positions in which I 
have found myself, and I shall have enough 



1814.] Death of Josephine. 207 

Napoleon abdicates. 

to bear m}^ reverses of fortune ; but I have not 
sufficient to sustain me under absence from my 
children, and uncertainty respecting their fate. 
For two days I have not ceased to weep. Send 
me tidings respecting yourself and your chil- 
dren. If you can learn "any thing respecting 
Eugene and his family, inform me." 

Two days after this, Hortense, with her two 
sons, joined her mother at Navarre. Paris was 
soon in the hands of the Allies. The Emperor 
Alexander invited Josephine and Hortense to 
return to Malmaison, where he established a 
guard for their protection. Soon after Napo- 
Ig^n abdicated at Fontainebleau. Upon the 
eve of his departure for Elba, he wrote to Jo- 
sephine : 

'^I wrote to you on the 8th. Possibly you 
have not received my letter. It may have 
been intercepted. At present communications 
must be re-established. I have formed my 
resolution. I have no doubt that this billet 
will reach you. I will not repeat what I said 
to you. Then I lamented my situation. Now 
I congratulate myself thereon. My head and 
spirit are freed from an enormous weight. My 
fall is great, but at least is useful, as men say. 
Adieu ! my dear Josephine. Be resigned as I 



208 HORTENSE. [1814. 

Kindness of Alexander. 

am, and ever remember him who never forgets 
and never will forget you." 

Josephine returned to Malmaison, and Hor- 
tense repaired to Kambouillet, to join Maria 
Louisa in these hours of perplexity and disas- 
ter. As soon as Maria Louisa set out under 
an Austrian escort for Vienna, Hortense rejoin- 
ed her mother at Malmaison. Alexander was 
particularly attentive to Josephine and Hor- 
tense. lie had loved Napoleon, and his sym- 
pathies were now deeply excited for his afflict- 
ed family. Through his kind offices, the beau- 
tiful estate of St. Leu, which Louis Bonaparte 
had owned, and which he had transferred to 
his wife, was erected into a duchy for her ad- 
vantage, and the right of inheritance was vest- 
ed in her children. The ex-Queen of Holland 
now took the title of the Duchess of St. Leu. 

On the 10th of May the Emperor Alexander 
dined with Josephine at Malmaison. Grief, 
and a season unusually damp and cheerless, 
had seriously undermined her health. Not- 
withstanding acute bodily suffering, she exert- 
ed herself to the utmost to entertain her guests. 
At nio^ht she was worse and at times was de- 
lirious. Not long after this, Alexander and 
the King of Prussia were both guests to dine 



1814.] Death of Josephine. 209 

Illness of Josephine, 

at Malmaisoo. The health of Josephine was 
such that she was urged by her friends not to 
leave her bed. She insisted, however, upon 
dressing to receive the allied sovereigns. Her 
sufferings increased, and she was obliged to 
retire, leaving Hortense to supply her place. 

The next day Alexander kindly called to 
inquire for her health. Hour after hour she 
seemed to be slowly failing. On the morning 
of the 28th she fell into a lethargic sleep, 
which lasted for five hours, and her case was 
pronounced hopeless. Eugene and Hortense 
were at her side. The death-hour had come. 
The last rites of religion were administered to 
the dying. The Emperor Alexander was also 
in this chamber of grief. Josephine was per- 
fectly rational. She called for the portrait of 
Napoleon, and, gazing upon it long and tender- 
ly, breathed the following prayer: 

" God, watch over Napoleon while he re- 
mains in the desert of this world. Alas! 
though he hath committed great faults, hath 
he not expiated them by great sufferings? 
Just God, thou hast looked into his heart, and 
hast seen by how ardent a desire for useful 
and durable improvements he was animated. 
Deign to approve this my last petition, and 
14 



210 HORTEXSE. [1814 



Death of Josephine. 



may this image of my husband bear me wit- 
ness that my latest wish and my latest prayer 
were for him and for my children." 

Her last words were ^^Island of Elba — Na- 
poleon:' It was the 29th of May, 18U. For 
four days her body remained laid out in state, 
surrounded with numerous tapers. "Every 
road," writes a French historian, "from Paris 
and its environs to Euel was crowded with 
trains of mourners. Sad groups thronged all 
the avenues ; and I could distinguish tears even 
in the splendid equipages which came rattling 
across the court-yard." 

More than twenty thousand persons — mon- 
archs, nobles, statesmen, and weeping peasants 
— thronged the chateau of Malmaison to take 
the "last look of the remains of one who had 
been universally beloved. The funeral took 
place at noon of the 2d of June. The re- 
mains were deposited in the little church of 
Euel. A beautiful mausoleum of white mar- 
ble, representing the Empress kneeling in her 
coronation robes, bears the simple inscription: 

EUGENE AND HORTENSE 

TO 

JOSEPHINE. 



1814.J The Sorrows of Exile. 211 

Eugene meets Louis XVIII. 



Chapter VII. 
The Sorrows of Exile. 

THERE probably never was a more tender, 
loving motber tban Josephine. And it 
is not possible that any children could be 
more intensely devoted to a parent than were 
Eugene and Hortense to their mother. The 
grief of these bereaved children was heart- 
rendins:. Poor Hortense was led from the 
grave almost delirious with woe. Etiquette 
required that Eugene, passing through Paris, 
should pay his respects to Louis XVIII. The 
king had remarkable tact in paying compli- 
ments. Eugene announced himself simply as 
General Beauharnais. He thanked the king 
for the kind treatment extended by the allied 
monarchs to his mother and his sister. Hor- 
tense was also bound, by the laws of courtesy, 
to call upon the king in expression of grati- 
tude. They were both received with so much 
cordiality as to expose the king to the accusa- 
tion of having become a rank Bonapartist. 
On the other hand, Eugene and Hortense were 



212 IIOllTENSE. [18U. 



llortensc in Paris. 



censured by the partisan press for accepting 
any favors from the Allies. After the inter- 
view of Louis XVIII. with Hortense, in which 
she thanked him for the Duchy of St. Leu, the 
king said to the Duke de Duras : "Never 
have I seen a woman uniting such grace to 
such distinguished manners; and lam a judge 
ot women." 

It is very difficult to ascertain with accuracy 
the movements of Hortense during the inde- 
scribable tumult of the next few succeeding 
months. The Duke of Eovigo says that Hor- 
tense reproached the Emperor Alexander for 
turning against Napoleon, for whom he for- 
merly had manifested so much friendship. 
But the Emperor replied: "I was compelled 
to yield to the wishes of the Allies. As for 
myself personally, I wash mj^ hands of every 
thinor which has been done." 

o 

The death of Josephine and the departure 
of Eugene left Hortense, bereaved and deject- 
ed, almost alone in Paris with her two children. 
Their intelligence and vivacity had deeply in- 
terested Alexander and other royal guests, 
who had cordially paid their tribute of respect 
and sympathy to their mother. Napoleon 
had taken a deep interest in the education of 



1814.] The Sorrows of Exile. 213 



Interest of Napoleon in the princes. 



the two princes, as he was aware of the frailty 
of life, and as the death of the King of Rome 
would bring them in the direct line to the in- 
heritance of the crown. 

The Emperor generally breakfasted alone 
when at home, at a small table in his cabinet. 
The two sons of Hortense were frequently 
admitted, that they might interest him with 
their infant prattle. The Emperor would tell 
them a story, and have them repeat it after 
him, that he might ascertain the accuracy of 
their memory. Any indication of intellectual 
superiority excited in his mind the most lively 
satisfaction. Mademoiselle Cochelet, who was 
the companion and reader of Queen Hortense, 
relates the following anecdote of Louis Napo- 
leon: 

" The two princes were in intelligence quite 
in advance of their years. This proceeded 
from the care which their mother gave herself 
to form their characters and to develop their 
faculties. They were, however, too young to 
understand all the strange scenes which were 
transpiring around them. As they had always 
beheld in the members of their own family, in 
their uncles and aunts, kings and queens, when 
the Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia 



214 HORTENSE. [1814. 



Anecdote of Louis Napoleon. 



were first introduced to them, tlie little Louis 
Napoleon asked if thej were also their uncles, 
and if they were to be called so. 

" ' No,' was the reply ; ' they are not your 
uncles. You will simply address them as sire. 

'"But are not all kings our uncles?' in 
quired the young prince. 

'"Far from being your uncle,' was the repl}^ 
'they have come, in their turn, as conquer 
ors.' 

'"Then they are the enemies,' said Louis 
Napoleon, ' of our uncle, the Emperor. Why 
then, do they embrace us?' 

"'Because the Emperor of Russia, whom 
you see, is a generous enemy. He wishes to 
be useful to you and to your mamma. But 
for him you would no longer have any thing; 
and the condition of your uncle, the Emperor, 
would be more unhappy.' 

" ' We ought, then, to love this Emperor, 
ought we ?' 

" ' Yes, certainly,' was the reply ; ' for you 
owe him your gratitude.' 

"The next time the Emperor Alexander call- 
ed upon Hortense, little Louis Napoleon, who 
was naturally very retiring and reticent, took 
a ring which his uncle Eugene had given him, 



1814.] The Sobrows of Exile. 215 

liemoval of the remains of Napoleon Charles. 

and, stealing timidly over to Alexander, slip- 
ped the ring into his hand, and, half frightened, 
ran away with all speed. Hortense called the 
child to her, and asked him what he had done. 
Blushing deeply, the warm-hearted boy said : 

" ' I have nothing but the ring. I wanted to 
give it to the Emperor, because he is good to 
my mamma.' 

"Alexander cordially embraced the prince, 
and, putting the ring upon his watch-chain, 
promised that he would always wear it." 

The remains of Napoleon Charles, who had 
died in Holland, had been deposited, by direc- 
tion of Napoleon, in the vaults of St. Denis, 
the ancient burial-place of the kings of France. 
So great was the jealous}^ of the Bourbons of 
the name of Napoleon, and so unwilling were 
they to recognize in any way the right of the 
people to elect their own sovereign, that the 
government of Louis XYIIL ordered the body 
to be immediately removed. Hortense trans- 
ferred the remains of her child to the chuixih 
of St. Leu. 

Notwithstanding this je'alousy, Alexander 
and the King of Prussia could not ignore the 
imperial character of Napoleon, whose govern- 
ment they had recognized, and with whom 



216 HORTENSE. [1814. 



Titles of the princes 



they had exchanged ambassadors and formed 
treaties : neither could they deny that the King 
of Holland had won a crown recognized by all 
Europe. They and the other crowned heads, 
who paid their respects to Hortense, in accord- 
ance with the etiquette of courts, invariably 
addressed each of the princes as Your Royal 
Highness. Hortense had not accustomed them 
to this homage. She had a]wa3^s addressed 
the eldest as Napoleon, the youngest as Louis. 
It was her .endeavor to impress them with the 
idea that they could be nothing more than their 
characters entitled them to be. But after this, 
when the Bourbon Government assumed that 
Napoleon was an usurper, and that popular 
suffrage could give no validity to the crown, 
then did Hortense, in imitation of Napoleon at 
St. Helena, firmly resist the insolence. Then 
did she teach her children that they were 
princes, that they were entitled to the throne 
of France by the highest of all earthly author- 
ity—the almost unanimous voice of the French 
people — and that the Bourbons, trampling pop- 
ular rights beneath their feet, and ascending 
the throne through the power of foreign bay- 
onets, were usurpers. 

Madame Cochelet, the reader of Queen Hor- 



:lr '"im^^va iii'!;!|iiiiif,P|iii'i:ii^iiiiiii:i:iii!ir'::'i8j:ii!;ii;ii-^!is?i< 




HORTENSE AND HER CHILDREN. 



18U.] The Sorrows of Exile. 219 



Conversation with the princes. 



tense, writes, in her interesting memoirs : " I 
have often seen her take her two boys on her 
knees, and talk with them in order to form 
their ideas. It was a curious conversation to 
hsten to, in those days of the splendors of the 
empire, when those children were the heirs of 
so many crowns, which the Emperor was dis- 
tributing to his brothers, his officers, his allies. 
Having questioned them on every thing they 
knew already, she passed in review whatever 
they should know besides, if the}^ were to rely 
upon their own resources for a livelihood. 

" Suppose you had no money," said Hor- 
tense to the eldest, -'and were alone in the 
world, what would you do, Napoleon, to sup- 
port yourself?" 

" I would become a soldier," was the repl v, 
" and would fight so well that I should soon 
be made an officer." 

" And Louis," she inquired of the younger, 
" how would you provide for yourself?" 

The little prince, who was then but about 
five years old, had listened very thoughtfully 
to all that was said. Knowing that the gun 
and the knapsack were altogether beyond his 
strength, he replied : 

" I would sell violet bouquets, like the little 



220 HORTENSE. [1815. 

Louis Bonaparte demands the children. 

boy at the gate of the Tuileries, from whom 
we purchase them every cla}^" 

The boy is father of the man. Such has 
been Louis Napoleon from that hour to this ; 
the quiet student — hating war, loving peace — 
all-devoteci to the arts of utility and of beaut3^ 
He has been the great pacificator of Europe. 
But for his unwearied efforts, the Continent 
would have been again and again in a blaze 
of war. As all present at this conversation 
smiled, in view of the unambitious projects of 
the prince, Hortense replied : 

"This is one of my lessons. The misfortune 
of princes born on the throne is that they think 
every thing is their due ; that they are formed 
of a different nature from other men, and there- 
fore never feel under any obligations to them. 
They are ignorant of human miseries, or think 
themselves beyond their reach. Thus, when 
misfortunes come, they are surprised, terrified, 
and always remain sunk below their destinies." 

The Allies retired, with their conquering 
armies. Hortense remained with her children 
in Paris. Louis Bonaparte, sick and dejected, 
took up his residence in Italy. He demanded 
the children. A mother's love clung to them 
with tenacity which could not be relaxed. 



1815.] The Sorrows of Exile. 221 

Hortense meets the Emperor. 

There was an appeal to the courts. Hortense 
employed the most eminent counsel to plead 
her cause. Eleven months passed away from 
the time of the abdication ; and upon the very 
day when the court rendered its decision, that 
the father should have the eldest child, and 
the mother the j^oungest, Napoleon landed at 
Cannes, and commenced his almost miraculous 
march to Paris. The sublime transactions of 
the " One Hundred Days " caused all other 
events, for a time, to be forgotten. 

Hortense was at the Tuileries, one of the 
first to greet the Emperor as he was borne in 
triumph, upon the shoulders of the people, up 
the grand staircase. " Sire," said Hortense, '' I 
had a presentiment that you would return, and 
I waited for you here." The Allies had robbed 
the Emperor of his son, and the child was a 
prisoner with his mother in the palaces of Vi- 
enna. Yery cordially Napoleon received his 
two nephews, and kept them continually near 
him. With characteristic devotion to the prin- 
ciple of universal suffrage, Napoleon submitted 
the question of his re-election to the throne of 
the empire to the French people. More than 
a million of votes over all other parties re- 
sponded in the afiirmative. 



222 HOKTENSE. [1815. 



Reinauguration of the Emperor. 



On the first of June, 1815, the Emperor was 
reinaugurated on the field of Mai-s, and the 
eagles were restored to the banners. It was 
one of the most imposing pageants Paris had 
ever witnessed. Hundreds of thousands crowd- 
ed that magnificent parade-ground. As the 
Emperor presented the eagles to the army, a 
roar as of reverberating thunder swept along 
the lines. By the side of the Emperor, upon 
the platform, sat his two young nephews. He 
presented them separately to the departments 
and the army as in the direct line of inherit- 
ance. This scene must have produced a pro- 
found impression upon the younger child, Louis 
Napoleon, who was so thoughtful, reflective, 
and pensive. 

In the absence of Maria Louisa, who no lon- 
ger had her liberty, Uortense presided at the 
Tuileries. Inheriting the spirit of her mother, 
she was unfailing in deeds of kindness to the 
many Royalists wdio were again ruined by the 
return of Napoleon. Her audience -chamber 
was ever crowded by those who, through her, 
sought to obtain access to the ear of the Em- 
peror. Napoleon was overwhelmed by too 
many public cares to give much personal at- 
tention to private interests. 



1815.] The Sorrows of Exile 



223 



Anecdote of Louis Napoleon. 



The evening before Napoleon left bis cabi- 
net for his last campaign, which resulted in the 
disaster at Waterloo, he was in his cabinet con- 
versing with Marshal Soult. The door was 
gently opened, and little Louis Napoleon crept 
silently into the apartment. His features were 
swollen with an expression of the profonndest 
gner, which he .seemed to be struaglino-in vain 
to repress. Tren.blingly he aj^proaclied the 
Emperor, and, throwing himself upon his knees 
buried his face in his two liands in the Empe- 
ror^s lap, and burst into a flood of tears. 

''What is the matter, Louis?" said the Em- 
peror kindly ; - why do you interrupt me, and 
why do you weep so?" 

The young prince was so overcome with 
emotion that for some time he could not utter 
a syllable. At last, in words interrupted by 
sobs, he said, 

" Sire, my governess has told me that you 
are going away to the war. Oh ! do not ro f 
do not go!" 

The Emperor, much moved, passed his fin^ 
gers through the clustering ringlets of the 
child, and said, tenderly, 

"My child, this is not the first time that I 
have been to the war. Why are you so afflict- 



224 HORTENSE. [1815. 



Anecdote of Louis Napoleon. 



ed ? Do not fear for me. I shall soon come 
back again." 

"Oh! mj dear uncle," exclaimed the child, 
weeping convulsively ; " those wicked Allies 
wish to kill you. Let me go with you, dear 
uncle, let me go with you 1" 

The Emperor made no replj^, but, taking 
Louis Napoleon upon his knee, pressed him to 
his heart with much apparent emotion. Then 
calling Hortense, the mother of the child, he 
said to her : 

" Take away my nephew, Hortense, and rep- 
rimand his governess, who, by her inconsid- 
erate words, has so deeply excited his sympa- 
thies." 

Then, after a few affectionate words address- 
ed to the young prince, he was about to hand 
him to his mother, when he perceived that 
Marshal Soult was much moved by the scene. 

"Embrace the child. Marshal," said the Em- 
peror ; " he has a warm heart and a noble soul. 
Perhaps lie is to he the hojpe of my raceP'' 

Napoleon returned from the disaster at Wa- 
terloo with all his hopes blighted. Hortense 
hastened to meet him, and to unite her fate with 
his. " It is my duty," she said. " The Em- 
peror has always treated me as his child, and I 



1815.] The Sorrows of Exile. 225 

Ilortense meets Napoleon. 

will try, in return, to be his devoted and grate- 
ful daughter." In conversation with Hortense, 
Napoleon remarked : " Give m3'self up to Aus- 
tria ! Kever. She has seized upon my wife 
and m}^ son. Give myself up to Eussia ! That 
would be to a single man. But to give my- 
self up to England, that would be to throw 
myself upon a ^eo/^k" His friends assured 
him that, though he might rel}^ upon the honor 
of the British 2'>^ople^ he could not trust to the 
British Government. Hortense repaired to Mal- 
maison with her two sons, where the Emperoi* 
soon rejoined her. '' She restrained her own 
tears," writes Baron Fleury, "reminding us, 
with the wisdom of a philosopher and the 
sweetness of an angel, that w^e ought to sur- 
mount our sorrows and regrets, and submit 
with docility to the decrees of Providence." 

It was necessary for Napoleon to come to a 
prompt decision. The Allies now nearly sur- 
rounded Paris. On the 29th of June the Em- 
peror sat in his library at Malmaison, exhaust- 
ed with care and grief Hortense, though with 
swollen eyes and a heart throbbing with an- 
guish, did every thing which a daughter's love 
could suggest to minister to the solace of her 
afflicted father. Just before his departure to 
15 



226 HOETENSE. [1815. 



Departure of the Emperor. 



Rochefort, where be intended to embark for 
some foreign land, be called for bis nepbews, 
to take leave of tbem. It was a very affecting 
scene. Botb of tbe cbildren wept bitterly. 
The soul of tbe little, pensive Louis Napoleon 
was stirred to its utmost depths. He clung 
frantically to bis uncle, screaniing and insisting 
that be should go and " fire off the cannon !" 
It was necessary to take him away by force. 

"Tbe Emperor was departing almost without 
money. Hortense, after many entreaties, suc- 
ceeded in making him accept her beautiful 
necklace, valued at eight hundred thousand 
francs. She sewed it up in a silk -ribbon, 
which he concealed in his dress. He did not, 
however, find himself obliged to part with this 
jewel till on bis death-bed, when he intrusted 
it to Count Montholon, with orders to restore 
it to Hortense. This devoted man acquitted 
himself successfully of this commission."* 

Upon tbe departure of jSTapoleon, Hortense, 
with her cbildren, returned to Paris. She was 
entreated by her friends to seek refuge in the 
interior of France, as the Royalists were much 
exasperated against her in consequence of her 
reception of tbe Emperor. They assured her 

* Life of Napoleon III., by Edward Roth. 



1S15.] The Sorrows of Exile. 227 

Anger of the Royalists. 

that the army and the people would rally 
around her and her children as the represeiita- 
tives of the Empire. But Hortense replied : 

" I must now undergo whatever fortune has 
in store for me. I am nothing now. I can 
not pretend to make the people think that I 
rally the troops around me. If I had been 
Empress of France, I would have done every 
thing to prolong the defense. Butnow it does 
not become me to mingle my destinies with 
such great interests, and I must be resigned." 

In a few days the allied armies were again 
in possession of Paris. The Koyalists assumed 
so threatening an attitude towards her, that she 
felt great solicitude for the safety of her chil- 
dren. Many persons kindly offered to give 
them shelter. But she was unwilling to com- 
promise her friends by receiving from them 
such marks of attention. A kind-hearted 
woman, by the name of Madame Tessier, kept 
a hose establishment on the Boulevard Mont- 
martre. The children were intrusted to her 
care, where they would be concealed from ob- 
servation, and where they would still be per- 
fectly comfortable. 

Hortense had her residence in a hotel on the 
Rue Cerutti. The Austrian Prince Schwartz- 



228 HORTENSE. [1815 



Hostility of the AUiea. 



enberg occupied the same hotel, and Hortense 
hoped that this circumstance would add to her 
security. But the Allies were now greatly ex- 
asperated against the French people, who had 
so cordially received the Emperor on his re- 
turn from Elba. Even the Emperor Alexander 
treated Hortense with marked coldness. He 
called upon Prince Schwartzenberg without 
making any inquiries for her. 

The hostility of the Allies towards this un- 
fortunate lady was so great, that on the 19th 
of July Baron de Muffling, who commanded 
Paris for the Allies, received an order to notify 
the Duchess of St. Leu that she must leave 
Paris within two hours. An escort of troops 
was offered her, which amounted merely to an 
armed guard, to secure her departure and to 
mark her retreat. As Hortense left Paris for 
exile, she wrote a few hurried lines to a friend, 
in which she said : 

" I have been obliged to quit Paris, having 
been positively expelled from it by the allied 
armies. So greatly am I, a feeble woman, with 
her two children, dreaded, that the enemy's 
troops are posted all along our route, as they 
say, to protect our passage, but in reality to 
insure our departure." 



1815.J The Sorrows of Exile. 229 



Driven into exile. 



Prince Schwartzenberg, who felt much sym- 
pathy for Ilortense, accompanied her, as a com- 
panion and a protector, on her journey to the 
frontiers of France. Little Louis Napoleon, 
though then but seven years of age, seemed 
fully to comprehend the disaster which had 
overwhelmed them, and that they were ban- 
ished from their native land. AYith intelli- 
gence far above his years he conversed with 
his mother, and she found great difficulty in 
consoling him. It was through the influence 
of such terrible scenes as these that the char- 
acter of that remarkable man has been formed. 
It was nine o'clock in the evening when 
Ilortense and her two little boys, accompanied 
by Prince Schwartzenberg, reached the Chateau 
de Percy, where they passed the night. The 
next morning the journey was resumed to- 
wards the frontiers. It was the intention of 
Hortense to take refuge in a very retired coun- 
try-seat which she owned at Pregny, in Swit- 
zerland, near Geneva. At some points on her 
journey the Eoyalists assailed her with re- 
proaches. Again she was cheered by loudly- 
expressed manifestations of the sympathy and 
affection of the people. At Dijon the multi- 
tude crowding around her carriage, supposing 



230 HORTENSE. [1815. 



Takes refuge at Aix. 



that she was being conveyed into captivity, 
gallantly attempted a rescue. They were only 
appeased by the assurance of Hortense that 
she was under the protection of a friend. 

Scarcely had this melancholy wanderer en- 
tered upon her residence at Pregny, with the 
title of the Duchess of St. Leu, ere the French 
minister in Switzerland commanded the Swiss 
government to issue an order expelling her 
from the Swiss territory. Switzerland could 
not safely disregard the mandate of the Bour- 
bons of France, who were sustained in their 
enthronement by allied Europe. Thus pur- 
sued by the foes of the Empire, Hortense re- 
paired to Aix, in Savoy. Here she met a cor- 
dial welcome. The people remembered her 
frequent visits to those celebrated springs, her 
multiplied charities, and here still stood, as an 
ever-during memorial of her kindness of heart, 
the hospital which she had founded and so 
munificently endowed. The magistrates at 
Aix formally invited her to remain at Aix so 
long as the Allied powers would allow her to 
make that place her residence. 

It seemed as though Hortense were destined 
to drain tbe cup of sorrow to its dregs. Aix 
was the scene of the dreadful death of Madame 



1815.] The Sorrows of Exile. 231 



Separation of the princes. 



Broc, which we have above described. Every 
thing around her reminded her of that terrible 
calamity, and oppressed her spirits with the 
deepest gloom. And, to add unutterably to 
her anguish, an agent arrived at Aix from her 
husband, Louis Bonaparte, furnished with all 
competent legal powers to take custody of the 
eldest child and convey him to his father in 
Italy. It will be remembered that the court 
had decided that the father should have the 
eldest and the mother the youngest child. The 
stormy events of the " Hundred Days" had in- 
terrupted all proceedings upon this matter. 

This separation was a terrible trial not only 
to the mother, but to the two boys. The pe- 
culiarities of their dispositions and tempera- 
ments fitted them to assimilate admirably to- 
gether. Napoleon Louis, the elder, was bold, 
resolute, high-spirited. Louis Napoleon, the 
younger, was gentle, thoughtful, and pensive. 
The parting was very affecting — Louis Napo- 
leon throwing his arms around his elder broth- 
er, and weeping as though his heart would 
break. The thoughtful child, thus companion- 
less, now turned to his mother witli the full 
flow of his affectionate nature. A French 
writer, speaking of these scenes, says : 



232 HORTENSE. [1815, 



Continued persecutions 



"The soul of Hortense had been already 
steeped in misfortune, but her power of endur- 
ance seemed at length exhausted. When she 
had embraced her son for the last time, and 
beheld the carriage depart which bore him 
away, a deep despondency overwhelmed her 
spirits. Her very existence became a dream ; 
and it seemed a matter of indifference to her 
whether her lot was to enjoy or to suifer, to be 
persecuted, respected or forgotten." 

And now came another blow upon the be- 
wildered brain and throbbing heart of Hor- 
tense. The Allies did not deem it safe to al- 
low Hortense and her child to reside so near 
the frontiers of France. They l<:new that the 
French people detested the Bourbons. They 
knew that all France, upon the first favorable 
opportunit}^, would rise in the attempt to re- 
establish the Empire. The Sardinian govern- 
ment w^as accordingly ordered to expel Hor- 
tense from Savoy. Where should she go? It 
seemed as though all Europe would refuse a 
home to this bereaved, heart-broken lady and 
her child. She remembered her cousin, Ste- 
phanie Beauharnais, her schoolmate, whom her 
mother and Napoleon had so kindly sheltered 
and provided for in the days when the Royal- 



1815.] The Sorrows of Exile. 233 

Hospitality of the Swiss. 



ists were in exile. Stephanie was the lady to 
whom her father had been so tenderly attach- 
ed. She was now in prosperity and power, 
the wife of the Grand Duke of Baden. Hor- 
tense decided to seek a residence at Constance, 
in the territory of Baden, persuaded that the 
duke and duchess would not drive her, home- 
less and friendless, from their soil, out again 
into the stormy world. 

To reach Baden it was necessar}^ to pass 
through Switzerland. The Swiss government, 
awed by France, at first refused to give her 
permission to traverse their territory. But the 
Duke of Eichelieu intervened in her favor, 
and, by remonstrating against such cruelty, ob- 
tained the necessary passport. It was now the 
month of November. Cold storms swept the 
snow-clad hills and the valleys. Hortense de- 
parted from Aix, taking wath her her son Louis 
Napoleon, his private tutor, the Abbe Bertrand, 
her reader. Mademoiselle Cochelet, and an at- 
tendant. She wished to spend the first night 
at her own house, at Pregny ; but even this 
slight gratification was forbidden her. 

The police were instructed to watch her care- 
fully all the way. At Morat she was even ar- 
rested, and detained a prisoner two days, until 



234 PIORTENSE. [1815. 



Anguish of Hortense. 



instructions should be received from the dis- 
tant authorities. At last she reached the city 
of Constance. But even here she found that 
her sorrows had not yet terminated. ISTeither 
the Duke of Baden nor the Duchess ventured 
to welcome her. On the contrary, immediate- 
ly upon her arrival, she received an official 
notification that, however anxious the grand 
duke and d^ichess might be to afford her hos- 
pitable shelter, they were under the control of 
higher powers, and they must therefore request 
her to leave the duchy without delay. It was 
now intimated that the only countries in Eu- 
rope which would be allowed to afford her 
a shelter were Austria, Prussia, or Eussia. 

The storms of winter were sweeping those 
northern latitudes. The health of Hortense 
was extremely frail. She was fatherless and 
motherless, alienated from her husband, be- 
reaved of one of her children, and all her fam- 
ily friends dispersed by the ban of exile. She 
had no kind friends to consult, and she knew 
not wdiich way to turn. Thus distracted and 
crushed, she w^ote an imploring letter to her 
cousins, the Duke and Duchess of Baden, stat- 
ing the feeble condition of her health, the in- 
clement weather, her utter friendlessness, and 



1815.] The Sorrows of Exile. 235 

Retires to the Lake of Constance. 

exhaustion from fatigue and sorrow, and beg- 
ging permission to remain in Constance until 
the ensuing spring. 

In reply she received a private letter from 
the grand duchess, her cousin Stephanie, as- 
suring her of her sjmpath}^, and of the cor- 
diality with which she would openly receive 
and welcome her, if she did but dare to do so. 
In conclusion, the duchess wrote : " Have pa- 
tience, and do not be uneasy. Perhaps all will 
be right by spring. By that time passions will 
be calmed, and many things will have been 
forgotten." 

Though this letter did not give any positive 
permission to remain, it seemed at least to im- 
ply that soldiers would not be sent to transport 
her, by violence, out of the territory. Some- 
what cheered by this assurance, she rented a 
small house, in a very retired situation upon 
the western shore of the Lake of Constance. 
Though in the disasters of the times she had 
lost much property, she still had an ample 
competence. Her beloved brother, Eugene, 
it will be remembered, had married a daughter 
of the King of Bavaria. He was one of the 
noblest of men and the best of brothers. As 
soon as possible, he took up his residence near 



236 HORTENSE. [1815. 



Prince Eugene. 



his sister. lie also was in the enjoyment of 
an ample fortune. Thus there seemed to be 
for a short time a lull in those angry storms 
which for so long had risen dark over the way 
of Hortense. 

In this distant and secluded home, upon the 
borders of the lake, Hortense and her small 
harmonious household passed the winter of 
1815. Though she mourned over the absence 
of her elder child, little Louis Napoleon cheer- 
ed her by his bright intelligence and his in- 
tense affection ate n ess. Prince Euo-ene often 
visited his sister; and many of the illustrious 
generals and civilians, who during the glories 
of the Empire had filled Europe with their re- 
nown, were allured as occasional guests to the 
home of this lovely woman, who had shared 
with them in the favors and the rebuffs of for- 
tune. 

Hortense devoted herself assiduously to the 
education of her son. She understood thor- 
oughly the political position of France. For- 
eigners, with immense armies, had invaded the 
kingdom, and forced upon the reluctant people 
a detested d3niasty. Napoleon was Emperor 
by popular election. The people still, with 
almost entire unanimity, desired the Empire. 



1815.] The Sorrows of Exile. 237 

Testimony of Lady Blessington. 

And Hortense knew full well that, so soon as 
the French people could get strength to break 
the chains with w^hich foreign armies had 
bound them, they would again drive out the 
Bourbons and re-establish the Empire. 

Hortense consequently never allowed her 
son to forget the name he bore, or the political 
principles which his uncle, the Emperor, had 
borne upon his banners throughout Europe. 
The subsequent life of this child has proved 
how deep was the impression produced upon 
his mind, as pensively, silently he listened to 
tlie conversation of the statesmen and the gen- 
erals who often visited his mother's parlor. 
Lady Blessington about this time visited Hor- 
tense, and she gives the following account of 
the impression which the visit produced upon 
her mind : 

" Though prepared to meet in Hortense Bona- 
p irte, ex-Queen of Holland, a woman possessed 
of no ordinary powers of captivation, she has, 
I confess, far exceeded my expectations. I 
have seen her frequently, and spent two hours 
yesterday in her society. Never did time fly 
away with greater rapidity than while listen- 
ing to her conversation, and hearing her sing 
those charming little French romances^ written 



238 HORTENSE. [1815. 

Testimony of Lady Ble-sington. 

and composed by herself, which, though I had 
often admired them, never previously struck 
me as being so expressive and graceful as they 
now proved to be. 

" I know not that I ever encountered a per- 
son with so fine a tact or so quick an appre- 
hension as the Duchess of St. Leu. These give 
her the power of rapidly forming an apprecia- 
tion of 'those with whom she comes in contact, 
and of suiting the subjects of conversation to 
their tastes and comprehensions. Thus, with 
the grave she is serious, with the lively gay, 
and with the scientific she only permits just a 
sufficient extent of her savoir to be revealed to 
encourage the development of theirs. 

" She is, in fact, all things to all men, with- 
out losing a single portion of her own natural 
character; a peculiarity of which seems to be 
the desire, as well as the power, of sending all 
away who approach her satisfied with them- 
selves and delighted with her. Yet there is 
no unworthy concession of opinions made, or 
tacit acquiescence yielded, to conciliate popu- 
larity. She assents to or dissents from the 
sentiments of others with a mildness and good 
sense which gratifies those with whom she coin- 
cides, or disarms those from whom she differs." 



1816,] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 239 

Visits the Baths of Geiss, 



Chapter VIII. 

Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 

\ S the spring of the year 1816 opened upon 
-^■^ Europe, Hortense was found residing un- 
disturbed, with her son, Louis Napoleon, in 
their secluded home upon the shores of Lake 
Constance. The Allies seemed no longer dis- 
posed to disturb her. Still, she had many in- 
dications that she was narrowly watched. She 
was much cheered by a visit which she made 
to her brother at Berg, on the Wurmsee, where 
she was received with that warmth of affection 
which her wounded heart so deeply craved. 
Her health being still very frail, she, by the ad- 
vice of her physicians, spent the heat of sum- 
mer at the baths of Geiss, among the mount- 
ains of Appenzell. Her son, Louis Napoleon, 
was constantly with her. Nearly the whole 
attention of the mother was devoted to his ed- 
ucation. 

She had the general superintendence of all 
his studies, teaching him herself drawing and 
dancing, often listening to his recitations and 



240 HORTENSE. [1816. 



Watchfulness of the Allies. 



guiding his reading. Her own highly-cultiva- 
ted mind enabled her to do this to great ad- 
vantage. The young prince read aloud to his 
mother in the evenings, the selections being 
regulated in accordance with his studies in 
geography or history. SatuKlay Hortense de- 
voted the entire day to her son, reviewing all 
the reading and studies of the week. In ad- 
dition to the Abbe Bertrand, another teacher 
was employed, M. Lebas, a young professor of 
much distinction from the Normal School of 
Paris. 

Thus the summer and autumn of 1816 passed 
tranquilly away. But the eagle eye of the 
Bourbons was continually upon Hortense. 
They watched every movement she made, she 
could not leave her home, or receive a visit 
from any distinguished stranger, without ex- 
citing their alarm. Their uneasiness at length 
became so great that, early in the year 1817, 
the Duke of Baden received peremptory orders 
that he must immediately expel Hortense and 
her child from his territory. The Bourbons 
could not allow such dangerous personages to 
dwell so near the frontiers of France. Hor- 
tense was a feeble, heart-broken woman. Her 
child was but eight years of age. But they 



1817.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 24:1 

The retreat of Arenemberg. 

were representatives of the Empire. And the 
Bourbons were ever terror-stricken lest the 
French people should rise in insurrection, and 
demand the restoration of that Empire, of 
which foreign armies had robbed them. 

In the extreme north-eastern portion of Swit- 
zerland, on the southern shores of the Lake of 
Constance, there was the small Swiss canton of 
Thurgovia. The gallant magistrates of the 
canton informed Hortense that if she wished 
to establish herself in their country, she should 
be protected by both the magistrates and the 
people. The ex-queen had occasionally enter- 
ed the canton in her drives, and had observed 
with admiration a modest but very beautiful 
chateau called Arenemberg, very picturesque- 
ly located on the borders of the lake. She 
purchased the estate for about sixty thousand 
francs. This became a very delightful summer 
residence, though in winter it presented n bleak 
exposure, swept by piercing winds. Until the 
death of Hortense, Arenemberg continued to 
be her favorite place of residence. 

To add to this transient gleam of happiness, 
there was now a partial reconciliation between 
Hortense and her husband ; and, to the un- 
speakable joy of the mother and Louis Napole- 
16 



242 HORTENSE. [1819. 



The princes enter college. 



on, they enjoyed a visit of several months from 
Kapoleoii Louis. It is not easy to imagine the 
happiness which this reunion created, after 
a separation of nearly three years. 

The judicious mother now thought it im- 
portant that her sons should enjoy the advan- 
tages of a more public education than that which 
they had been receiving from private tutors at 
home. 'vShe accordingly took them both to 
Augsburg, in Bavaria, where they entered the 
celebrated college of that city. Hortense en- 
gaged a liandsonie residence there, that she 
might still be with her sons, whom she loved 
so tenderly. A French gentleman of distinc- 
tion, travelling in that region, had the honor of 
an introduction to her, and gives the following 
account of his visit : 

"Keturning to France in 1819, after a long 
residence in Kussia, I stopped at Augsburg, 
where the Duchess of St. Leu was then a resi- 
dent. I had hitherto only known her by re- 
port. Some Russian officers, who had accom- 
panied the Emperor Alexander to Malmaison 
in 1814, had spoken to me of Hortense with so 
much enthusiasm, that for the first few mo- 
ments it appeared as if I saw her again after a 
long absence, and as if I owed my kind recep- 



1819.] Peaceful Days, YET Sad. 243 

Loveliness of Hortense. 

tion to the ties of ancient friendship. Every 
thing about her is in exact harmony with the 
angelic expression of her face, her conversation, 
demeanor, and the sweetness of her voice and 
disposition. 

" When she speaks of an affecting incident, 
the language becomes more touching through 
the depths of her sensibility. She lends so 
much life to every scene, that the auditor be- 
comes witness of the transaction. Her powers 
of instructing and delighting are almost magic- 
al ; and her artless fascination leaves on every 
heart those deep traces w^hich even time can 
never efface. 

"She introduced me to her private circle, 
which consisted of the two children and their 
tutors, some old officers of her household, two 
female friends of her infancy, and that living 
monument of conjugal devotion. Count Laval- 
lette."^ The conversation soon became general. 

* Count Lavallette was one of the devoted friends of Na- 
poleon, who had long sened in the armies of the Empire. 
For the welcome he gave Napoleon on his return from Elba 
he was doomed, by the Bourbons, to death. While prepara- 
fions were being made for his execution, his wife and daugh- 
ter, with her goveniess, were permitted to visit him. Very 
adroitly he escaped in his wife's clothes, she remaining in his 
place. In-itated by this escape, the Government held liis wife 
a prisoner until she became a confirmed lunatic. 



244 HORTENSE. [1819. 



Letter from a visitor. 



Thej questioned me about the Ukraine, where 
I long had resided, and Greece and Turkey, 
through which I had lately travelled. 

"In return, they spoke of Bavaria, St. Leu, 
the Lake of Constance, and, by degrees, of 
events deriving their chief interest from the 
important parts played by the narrators them- 
selves. We dined at five. I afterwards ac- 
companied the duchess into the garden, and, 
in the few moments then enjoyed of intimate 
conversation, I saw that no past praises had 
ever been exaggerated. How admirable were 
her feelinojs when she recalled the death of her 
mother, and in her tragic recital of the death 
of Madame Broc. 

"But when she spoke of her children, her 
friends, and the fine arts, her whole figure 
seemed to glow with the ardor of her imagina- 
tion. Goodness of heart was displayed in 
every feature, and gave additional value to her 
other estimable qualities. In describing her 
present situation it was impossible to avoid 
mentioning her beloved France. 

" ' You are returning,' said she, ' to your na- 
tive country ;' and the last word was pro- 
nounced with a heartfelt sigh. I had been an 
exile from my cradle, yet my own eager anx- 



1819.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 245 



Letter from a visitor. 



iety to revisit a birth-place scarcely remember- 
ed, enabled me to estimate her grief at the 
thoughts of an eternal separation. She spoke 
of the measures adopted for her banishment 
with that true resignation which mourns but 
never murmurs. After two hours of similar 
conversation, it was impossible to decide which 
was the most admirable, her heart, her good 
sense, or her imagination. 

" We returned to the drawing-room at eight, 
where tea was served. The duchess observed 
that this was a habit learned in Holland, 
'though you are not to suppose,' she added, 
with a slight blush, ' that it is preserved as a 
remembrance of days so brilliant, but now al- 
ready so distant. Tea is the drink of cold 
climates, and I have scarcely changed my tem- 
perature.' 

"Numerous visitors came from the neigh- 
borhood, and some even from Munich. She 
may, indeed, regard this attention with a feel- 
ing of proud gratification. It is based upon 
esteem alone, and is far more honorable than 
the tiresome adulation of sycophants while at 
St. Cloud or the Hague. In the course of the 
evening we looked through a suite of rooms 
containing, besides a few master-pieces of the 



246 HOKTENSE. [1819. 

Social life at Arenemberg. 

different schools, a large collection of precious 
•-^.uriosities. Many of these elegant trifles had 
once belonged to her mother ; and nearly ev- 
ery one was associated with the remembrance 
of some distinguished personage or celebrated 
event. Indeed, her museum might almost be 
called an abridgment of contemporary histoiy. 
Music was the next amusement; and the duch- 
ess sang, accompanying herself with the same 
correct taste which inspires her compositions. 
She had just finished the series of drawings in- 
tended to illustrate her collection of romances. 
How could I avoid praising that happy talent 
which thus personifies thought? The next 
day I received that beautiful collection as a 
remembrance. 

"I took my leave at midnight, perhaps with- 
out even the hope of another meeting. I left 
her as the traveller parts from the flowers of 
the desert, to which he can never hope to re- 
turn. But, wherever time, accident, or destiny 
may place me, the remembrance of that da}^ 
will remain indelibly imprinted alike on my 
memory and heart. It is pleasing to pay hom- 
age to the fallen greatness of one like Hortense, 
who joins the rare gift of talents to the charms 
of the tenderest sensibility." 




horten«;e at arenemberg. 



1819.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 2-19 



Scenery at Arenemberg. 



The residence of Hortense in Augsburg was 
m a mansion, since called Pappenheim Palace, 
in Holy Cross Street. After the graduation 
of her children, Hortense, with Louis Napo- 
leon, spent most of their time at Arenemberg, 
interspersed with visits to Eome and Florence. 
The beautiful chateau was situated upon a 
swell of land, with green lawns and a thick 
growth of forest trees, through which there 
were enchanting views of the mountain and 
of the lake. The spacious grounds were em- 
bellished with the highest artistic skill, with 
terraces, trellis- work woodbines, and rare ex- 
otics. 

"The views," writes an English visitor, 
" which were in some places afforded thrpugh 
the woods, and in others, by their rapid de- 
scent, carried over them, were broken in a 
manner which represented them doubly beau- 
tiful. From one peep you caught the small 
vine-clad island of Reichman, with its cottage 
gleams trembling upon the twilighted lake. 
From another you had a noble reach of the 
Rhine, going forth from its brief resting-place 
to battle its way down the Falls of Schaffhau- 
sen ; and beyond it the eye reposed upon the 
distant outline of the Black Forest, melting 



250 IIORTENSE. [1819. 

Pleasant neighbors. 

warmly in the west. In a tliird direction you 
saw the vapory steeples of Constance, appar- 
ently sinking in the waters which almost sur- 
rounded them ; and far away you distinguish, 
the little coast villages, like fading constella- 
tions, glimmering fainter and fainter, till land 
and lake anl sky were blended together in ob- 
scurity." 

Not far distant was the imposing chateau of 
Wolf berg, which had been purchased by Gen- 
eral Parguin, a young French officer of the 
Empire of much distinction. He had rnari'ied 
Mademoiselle Cochelet, and became one of the 
most intimate friends of Louis Napoleon. 

Prince Eugene had also built him a house in 
the vicinity, that he might be near his sister 
and share her solitude. Just as the house was 
finished, and before he moved into it, Eugene 
died. This was another crushing blow to the 
heart of Hortense. She was in Rome at the 
time, and we shall have occasion to refer to 
the event again. 

Hortense, in her retirement, was no less a 
queen than when the diadem was upon her 
brow. Though at the farthest possible remove 
from all aristocratic pride, her superior mind, 
her extraordinary attainments, and her queen- 



1819.} Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 251 



An evening scene. 



\y grace and dignity, invested her with no less 
influence over the hearts of her friends than 
she enjoyed in her days of regal power. A 
visitor at Wolfberg, in the following language, 
describes a call which Hortense made upon 
Madame Parguin and her guests at the cha- 
teau : 

"One fine evening, as w^e were all distrib- 
uted about the lawn at Wolfberg, there was 
an alarm that Hortense was coming to visit 
Madame Parguin. As I saw her winding 
slowly up the hill, with all her company, in 
three little summer carriages, the elegance of 
the cavalcade, in scenes where elegance w\as 
so rare, was exceedingly striking, 

" The appearance of Hortense w\ns such as 
could not fixil to excite admiration and kind 
feeling. Her countenance was full of talent, 
blended with the mild expression of a perfect 
gentlewoman. Her figure, though not beyond 
the middle height, was of a mould altogether 
majestic. She lamented that she had not soon- 
er known of the purposed length of our stay 
in that part of Switzerland, as, having con- 
ceived that we were merely passing a few 
days, she had been unwilling to occupy our 
time. She then spoke of her regret at not 



252 HORTENSE. [1819. 



Theatric entertainments. 



being able to entertain us according to her 
wishes. And, finally, she told us that she had 
in agitation some little theatricals which, if we 
could bear with such trifles, we should do her 
pleasure in attending. All this was said with 
simple and winning eloquence." 

The room for this little theatric entertain- 
ment was in a small building, beautifully dec- 
orated, near the house. Many distinguished 
guests were present; many from Constance; 
so that the apartment was crowded to its ut- 
most capacity. There were two short plays 
enacted. In one Hortense took a leading part 
in scenes of trial and sorrow, in which her pe- 
culiar powers were admirably displayed. Even 
making ail suitable allowance for the polite- 
ness due from guests to their host, it is evident 
that Hortense possessed dramatic talent of a 
very high order. 

From the theatre the guests returned to the 
chateau, where preparations had been made 
for dancing. In the intervals between the 
dances there was singing, accompanied by the 
piano. " Here, again," writes one of the guests, 
" Hortense was perfectly at home. She sang 
several songs, of which I afterwards found her 
to be the unacknowledged composer. Among 



1819.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 253 

Taste and culture. 

these was the beautiful air, Partant pour la Sy- 
rie^ which will be a fair guaranty that I do not 
say too much for the rest." 

At the close of the evening, as the guests 
began to depart, the remainder were dispersed 
through the suite of rooms, admiring the vari- 
ous objects of curiosity and of beauty with 
which they are decorated. There were some 
beautiful paintings, and several pieces of ex- 
quisite statuary. Upon the tables there were 
engravings, drawing-books, and works of belles- 
lettres. 

"I chanced," writes the visitor from whom 
we have above quoted, " to place my hand 
upon a splendid album, and had the further 
good-fortune to seat myself beside a beautiful 
young dame de comimgnie of the duchess, who 
gave me the history of all the treasures I found 
therein. Whatever I found most remarkable 
was still the work of Hortense. Of a series of 
small portraits, sketched by her in colors, the 
likeness of those of which I had seen the sub- 
jects would have struck me, though turned 
upside down. She had the same power and 
the same affectionate feeling for fixing the re- 
membrance of places likewise. 

"The landscapes which she had loved in for- 



254 HORTENSE. [1819. 



Accomplishments of Hortense. 



bidden France, even the apartments which she 
had inhabited, were executed in a manner that 
put to shame the best amateur performances I 
had ever seen. There was a minute attention 
to fidelity in them, too, which a recollection of 
her present circumstances could not fail to bring 
honie to the spectator's lieart. 

"I know not when my interest would have 
cooled in this mansion of taste and talent. To- 
wards morning I was obliged to take my leave ; 
and I doubt if there were any individual who 
returned home by that bright moonlight, with- 
out feelino- that Hortense had been born some 
century and a half too late. For an age of 
bigots and turncoats she, indeed, seemed un- 
suited. In that of true poetry and trusty cava- 
liers, she would have been the subject of the 
best rhymes and rencontres in romantic France. 

" After this I saw her frequently, both at her 
own house and at Wolf berg, and I never found 
any thing to destroy the impression which I re- 
ceived on my introduction. Independentl}^ of 
the interest attached to herself, she had always 
in her compan}^ some person who had made a 
noise in the world, and had become an object 
of curiosity. At one time it was a distinguished 
painter or poet; again, it was a battered soldier, 



1819.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 265 



Society at Arenemberg 



who preferred resting in retirement to the im- 
putation of changing his politics for advance- 
ment ; then a grand duke or duchess who had 
undergone as many vicissitudes as herself; and, 
finally, the widow of the unfortunate Marshal 
Ney. 

"There was something in the last of these 
characters, particularly when associated with 
Hortense, more interesting than all the others. 
She was a handsome, but grave and silent 
woman, and still clad in mourning for her hus- 
band, whose death, so connected with the ban- 
ishment of the ducliess, could not fail to render 
them deeply sympathetic in each other's for- 
tunes. The amusements provided for all this 
company consisted of such as I have mentioned 
— expeditions to various beautiful spots in the 
neighborhood, and music parties on the water. 
The last of these used sometimes to have a pe- 
culiarly romantic effect; for oxi fete days the 
young peasant girls, all glittering in their gold- 
en tinsel bonnets, would push off with their 
sweethearts, like mad things, in whatever boats 
they could find upon the beach. I have seen 
them paddling their little fleet round the duch- 
ess's boat with all the curiosity of savages 
round a man-of-war. 



256 HORTENSE. [1819, 



Amiability of Hortense. 



" At length the time arrived for me to bid 
adieu to Switzerland. It was arranged that I 
should set out for Italy with a small party of 
my Wolf berg friends. An evening or two be- 
fore we departed we paid a leave-taking visit 
to the duchess. She expressed much polite 
regret at our intention., and gave us a cordial 
invitation to renew our acquaintance with her 
in the winter at Eome. Her care, indeed, to 
leave a good impression of her friendly dispo- 
sition upon our minds, was exceedingly grati- 
fying. She professed to take an interest in 
the plans which each of us had formed, and, 
when her experience qualified her, gave us in- 
structions for our travels. 

" When we rose to depart, the night being 
fine, she volunteered to walk part of the way 
home with us. She came about a quarter of a 
mile to where she could command an uninter- 
rupted view of the lake, above which the moon 
was just then rising, a huge red orb which shot 
a burning column to her feet. ' I will now bid 
3^ou adieu,' she said ; and we left her to the 
calm contemplation of grandeur which could 
not fade, and enjoyments which could not be^ 
tray. This was the last time I saw, and per^ 
haps shall ever see Hortense; but I shall al- 



1820.] Peaceful Days, YET Sad. 257 

The city liome of Hortense and her son. 

ways remember my brief acquaintance with 
her as a dip into days which gave her country 
the character of being the most pohshed of na= 
tions." 

Hortense, with her son Louis Napoleon, had 
been in the habit of passing the severity of the 
winter months in the cities of Augsburg or 
Munich, spending about eight months of the 
year at Arenemberg. But after the death of 
her brother Eugene, the associations which 
those cities recalled were so painfal that she 
transferred her winter residence to Rome or 
Florence. An English lady who visited her 
at Arenemberg writes: 

"The style of living of the Duchess of St. 
Leu is sumptuous, without that freezing eti- 
quette so commonly met with in the great. 
Her household still call her Queen, and her son 
Prince Napoleon or Prince Louis. The suite is 
composed of two ladies of honor, an equerry, 
and the tutor of her 3*ounger son. She has a 
numerous train of domestics, and it is amoni? 
them that the traces are still observable of by- 
gone pretensions, long since abandoned by the 
true nobleness of their mistress. The former 
queen, the daughter of Napoleon, the mother 
of the Imperial heir- apparent, has returned 
17 



258 HoRTEKSE. [1820. 



Testimony of an English lady. 



quietly to private life with the perfect grace of 
a voluntary sacrifice. 

'' The duchess receives straus^ers with iiiex- 
pressible kindness. Ever amiable and oblig- 
ing, she is endowed with that charming sim- 
plicity which inspires, at first sight, the confi- 
dence of intimate affection. She speaks freely 
of the brilliant days of her prosperity. And 
histpry then flows so naturally from her lips, 
that more may be learned as a delighted lis- 
tener, than from all the false or exaggerated 
works so abundant everj^where. The deposed 
queen considers past events from such an emi- 
nence that nothing can interpose itself between 
her and the trutli. This strict impartiality 
gives birth to that true greatness, which is a 
thousand times preferable to all the splendors 
she lost in the flower of her age. 

"I have been admitted to the intimacy of 
the Duchess of St. Leu, both at Eome and in 
the country. I have seen her roused to en- 
thusiasm by the beauties of nature, and have 
seen her surrounded by the pomp of ceremon}^ ; 
but I have never known her less than herself; 
nor has the interest first inspired by her char- 
acter ever been diminished by an undignified 
sentiment or the slightest selfish reflection. 



1820.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 259 

The Duchess of St. Leu. 

"It is impossible to be a more ardent and 
tasteful admirer of the fine arts than is the 
duchess. Eveiy one has heard her beautiful 
romances^ which are rendered still more touch- 
ing by the soft and melodious voice of the 
composer. She usually sings standing; and, 
although a finished performer on the harp and 
piano, she prefers the accompaniment of one of 
her attendant ladies. Many of her leisure 
hours are employed in painting. Miniatures, 
landscapes, and flowers are equally the subjects 
of her pencil. She declaims well, is a delightful 
player in comedy, acts proverbs with uncom- 
mon excellence, and I really know no one who 
can surpass her in every kind of needle-work. 
" The Duchess of St. Leu never was a regular 
beauty, but she is still a charming woman. 
She has the softest and most expressive blue 
eyes in the world. Her light flaxen hair con- 
trasts beautifully with the dark color of her 
long eyelashes and eyebrows. Her complexion 
is fresh and of an even tint ; her figure elegant- 
ly moulded ; her hands and feet perfect. In 
fine, her whole appearance is captivating in the 
extreme. She speaks quickly with rapid ges- 
tures, and all her movements are easy and 
graceful. Her style of dress is rich, though she 



260 HORTENSE. [1820. 



Pursuits of Prince Louis. 



has parted with most of her jewels and precious 
stones." 

Hortense was almost invariably accompanied 
by her son, Louis Napoleon, whether residing 
in Italy or in Switzerland. When at Arenem- 
berg, the young prince availed himself of the 
vicinity to the city in pursuing a rigorous 
course of study in physics and chemistry un- 
der the guidance of a very distinguished French 
philosopher. He also connected himself, in 
prosecuting his military studies, with a Baden 
regiment garrisoned at Constance. He was 
here recognized as the Duke of St. Leu, and 
was always received with much distinction. At 
Eome, the residence of Hortense was the centre 
of the most brilliant and polished society of the 
city. Here her son was introduced to the most 
distinguished men from all lands, and especial- 
ly to the old friends of the Empire, who kept 
alive in his mind the memory of the brilliant 
exploits of him whose name he bore. Pauline 
Bonaparte, who had married for her second 
husband Prince Borghese, and who w^as im- 
mensely wealthy, also resided in the vicinity 
of Eome, in probably the most magnificent vil- 
la in Europe. Hortense and her son were con- 
stant visitors at her residence. 



1824.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 261 



Madame Recaiiiier meets Hortense. 



Madame Eecamier, who had ever been the 
warm friend of the Bourbons, and whom Hor- 
tense had befriended when the Bourbons were 
in exile, gives the following account of an in- 
terview she had with Queen Hortense in Eome, 
early in the year 1824. The two friends had 
not met since the " Hundred Days " in 1815. 
We give tlie narrative in the words of Madame 
Eecamier : 

" I went one day to St. Peter's to listen to the 
music, so beautiful under the vaults of that im- 
mense edifice. There, leaning against a pillar, 
meditating under my veil, I followed with heart 
and soul the solemn notes that died away in the 
depths of the dome. An elegant-looking wom- 
an, veiled like myself, came and placed herself 
near the same pillar. Every time that a more 
lively feeling drew from me an involuntary 
movement my eyes met those of the stranger. 
She seemed to be trying to recognize my fea- 
tures. And I, on my side, through the obstacle 
of our veils, thought I distinguished blue eyes 
and light hair that were not unknown to me. 
'Madame Eecamier !' 'Is it you, madame?' we 
said almost at the same moment. ' How de- 
lighted I am to see you !' said Queen Hortense, 
for she it was. ' You know,' she added, smil- 



262 HoRTENSE. [1824. 



Madame Recamier meets Hortense. 



ing, ' that I wo«ld not have waited until now to 
find you out ; but you have always been cere- 
monious with me.' 

" ' Then, madame,' I replied, ' my friends were 
exiled and unfortunate. You were happy and 
brilliant, and my place was not near you.' 

" 'If misfortune has the privilege of attract- 
ing you,' replied the queen, 'you must confess 
that my time has come and permit me to ad- 
vance my claims,' 

" I was a little embarrassed for a reply. My 
connection with the Duke de Laval, our ambas- 
sador at Eome, and with the French Govern- 
ment in general, was a barrier to any visiting 
between us. She understood my silence. 

" ' I know,' she said, sadl}^, ' that the incon- 
veniences of greatness follow us still, when even 
our prerogatives are gone. Thus, with loss of 
rank, I have not acquired liberty of action. I 
can not to-day even taste the pleasures of a 
woman's friendship, and peaceably enjoy soci- 
ety that is pleasant and dear to me.' 

" I bowed my head with emotion, expressing 
my sympathy only by my looks. 

" ' But I must talk to you,' said the queen, 
more warmly. ' I have so many things to say 
to you. If we can not visit each other, nothing 



1824.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 263 



Interview with Madame Recamier. 



prevents us from meeting elsewhere. We will 
appoint some place to meet. That will be 
charming.' 

'"Charming indeed, madame,' I replied, smil- 
ing; 'and especially for me. But how^ shall 
we fix the time and place for these interviews ?' 

" ' It is you,' Hortense replied, ' who must ar- 
range that; for, thanks to the solitude, forced 
upon me, my time is entirely at my own dis- 
posal. But it may not be the same with you. 
Sought for as you are, you mix, no doubt, a 
great deal in society.' 

" ' Heaven forbid !' I replied. ' On the con- 
trary, I lead a very retired life. It would be 
absurd to come to Eome to see society, and peo- 
ple everywhere the same. I prefer to visit 
what is peculiarly her own — her monuments 
and ruins.' 

" ' Well, then, we can arrange every thing 
finely,' added Hortense ; ' if it is agreeable to 
you I will join you in these excursions. Let 
me know each day your plans for the next; 
and we will meet, as if by accident, at the ap- 
pointed places.' 

" I eagerly accepted this offer, anticipating 
much pleasure in making the tour of old Rome 
with so gracious and agreeable a companion, 



264 HoRTENSE. [1824. 



Arrangements for meeting. 



and one who loved and understood art. The 
queen, on her side, was happy in the thought 
that I would talk to her of France ; whilst to 
both of us the little air of mystery thrown over 
these interviews gave them another charm. 

" ' Where do you propose to go to-morrow ?' 
asked the queen. 

" ' To the Coliseum.' 

"'You will assuredly find me there,' Hor- 
tense replied. ' I have much to say to you. I 
wish to justify myself in your eyes from an 
imputation that distresses me.' 

" The queen began to enter into explana- 
tions; and the interview threatening to be a 
long one, I frankly reminded her that the 
French ambassador, who had brought me to 
St. Peter's, was coming back for me ; for I 
feared that a meeting would be embarrassing 
to both. 

'"You are right,' said the queen. 'We 
must not be surprised together. Adien, then. 
To-morrow at the Coliseum ;' and we separa- 
ted." 

Madame Eecamier, the bosom-friend of Cha- 
teaubriand, was in entire political sympathy 
with the illustrious poet. She regarded legiti- 
macy as a part of her religion, and was intensely 



1824.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 265 

Difficulty between Napoleon and Madame Recamier. 

devoted to the interests of the Bourbons. She 
was one of the most beautiful and fascinating 
women who ever lived. Napoleon at St. Hele- 
na, in allusion to this remarkable lady, said: 

"I was scarcely First Consul ere I found 
myself at issue with Madame Kecamier. Her 
father had been placed in the Post-ofiice De- 
partment. I had found it necessary to sign, in 
confidence, a great number of appointments; 
but I soon established a very rigid inspection 
in every department. A correspondence was 
discovered with the Chouans, going on under 
the connivance of M. Bernard, the father of 
Madame Recamier. He was immediately dis- 
missed, and narrowly escaped trial and con- 
demnation to death. His daughter hastened 
to me, and upon her solicitation I exempted 
M. Bernard from taking his trial, but was reso- 
lute respecting his dismissal. Madame Eeca- 
mier, accustomed to obtain every thing, would 
be satisfied with nothing less than the reinstate- 
ment of her fiither. Such were the morals of 
the times. My severity excited loud animad- 
versions. It was a thing quite unusual. Ma- 
dame Recamier and her party never forgave 
me."* 

* Abbott's " Napoleon at St. Helena," p. 94. 



266 HoETEKSE. [1824. 

Banishment of Madame de Stael. 

The home of Madame De Stael, who was the 
very intimate friend of Madame Eecamier, be- 
came, in the earl 3^ stages of the Empire, the ren- 
dezvous of all those who were intriguing for 
the overthrow of the government of Napoleon. 
The Emperor, speaking upon this subject at 
St. Helena, said : 

"The house of Madame De Stael had become 
quite cm arsenal against me. People went there 
to be armed knights. She endeavored to raise 
enemies against me, and fought against me her- 
self. She was at once Armida and Clorinda. 
It can not be denied that Madame de Stael is 
a very distinguished woman. She will go 
down to posterity. At the time of the Con- 
cordat, against which Madame de Stael was 
violently inflamed, she united at once against 
me the aristocrats and the republicans. Hav- 
ing at length tired out my patience, she was 
sent into exile. I informed her that I left her 
the universe for the theatre of her achieve- 
ments; that I reserv^ed only Paris for myself, 
which I forbade her to approach, and resigned 
the rest of the world to her." 

The banishment of Madame de Stael from 
Paris excited as much bitterness in the soul of 
Madame Eecamier as it was possible for a Indv 



1815.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad 



267 



Cause of Madame Recamier's banishment. 



of such rare amiability and loveliness of char- 
acter to feel. Madame Recamier, in giving an 
account of this transaction, says : 

" I had a passionate admiration for Madame 
de Stael; and this harsh and arbitrary act 
showed me despotism under its most odious as- 
pect. The man who banished a woman, and 
such a woman,— who caused her such unhappi- 
ness, could only be regarded by me as an un- 
merciful tyrant; and from that hour I was 
against him." 

The result was that Madame Recamier was 
forbidden to reside within one hundred and 
twenty miles of Paris. The reason which Na- 
poleon assigned for these measures was, that 
Madame de Stael, with the most extraordinary 
endowments of mind, and Madame Recamier, 
with charms of personal loveliness which had 
made her renowned through all Europe, were 
combining their attractions in forming a con- 
spiracy which would surely deluge the streets 
of Paris in blood. Napoleon affirmed that 
though the Government was so strong that it 
could certainly crush an insurrection in the 
streets, he* thought it better to prohibit these 
two ladies any further residence in Paris, rather 
than leave them to foment rebellion, which 



268 HORTENSE. [1815. 

She returns to Paris. 

would cost the lives of many thousands of com- 
paratively innocent persons. 

When the Bourbons, at the first restoration, 
returned to Paris, in the rear of the batteries of 
the Allies, Madame Kecamier again took up her 
residence in Paris. Her saloons were throngred 

o 

with the partisans of the old regime, and she 
was universally recognized as the queen of 
fashion and beauty. She was in the enjoyment 
of a very large income, kept her carriage, had a 
box at the opera, and on opera nights had re- 
ceptions after the performances. The wheel 
of fortune had turned, and she was now in the 
ascendant. Lord Wellington was among her 
admirers. But the brusque, unpolished duke 
disgusted the refined French Lady by his boast 
to her, " I have given Napoleon a good beating." 
Still the wheel continued its revolution. 
Napoleon returned from Elba. The Bourbons 
and their partisans fled precipitately from 
France. But, in the interim, Madame Recamier 
and Madame de Stael had dined with the 
Duchess of St. Leu, at her estate a few leagues 
from Paris. The return of Napoleon plunged 
Madame Recamier and her friend into the ut- 
most consternation. She was very unwilling 
again to leave Paris. In this emergency, Hor- 



1815.J Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 269 



Hortense exiled. 



tense, who was then at the Tuileries, wrote to 
her under date of March 23, 1815 : 

"I hope that you are tranquil. You may 
trust to me to take care of your interests. I 
am convinced that I shall not have occasion to 
show you how delighted I should be to be use- 
ful to you. vSuch would be my desire. But 
under any circumstances count upon me, and 
believe that I shall be very happy to prove my 
friendship for you. Hoktense." 

The "Hundred Days" passed away. Tht^ 
Bourbons were re-enthroned. Madame Eeca- 
mier was again a power in Paris. Hortense, 
deprived of the duchy of St. Leu, was driven 
an exile out of France. Fifteen vears had 
rolled away, and these two distinguished ladies 
had not met until the accidental interview to 
which we have alluded beneath the dome of 
St. Peter's Cathedral. They were friends, 
though one was the representative of aristocra- 
cy and the other of the rights of the people. 

According to the arrangement which the}^ 
had made, Hortense and Madame Eecamier met 
the next day at the Coliseum. Though it is 
not to be supposed that Madame Eecamier 
would make any Mse representations, it is evi 



270 HoRTENSE. [1824. 

Interview at the Coliseum. 

dent that, under the circumstances, she would 
not soften any of the expressions of Hortense, 
or represent the conversation which ensued 
in any light too favorable to Napoleon. We 
give the narrative, however, of this very inter- 
estins: interview in the words of Madame Ee- 
camier : 

"The next day, at the Ave Maria, I was at 
the Coliseum, where I saw the queen's carriage, 
which had arrived a few minutes before me. 
We entered the amphitheatre together, com- 
plimenting each other on our punctuality, and 
strolled through this immense ruin as the sun 
was settinsf, and to the sound of distant bells. 

" Finally we seated ourselves on the steps 
of the cross in the centre of the amphitheatre, 
while Charles Napoleon Bonaparte and M. 
Ampere, who had followed us, walked about at 
a little distance. The niojht came on — an Ital- 
ian night. The moon rose slowly in the heav- 
ens, behind the open arcades of the Coliseum. 
The breeze of evenino^ sigjhed through the de- 
serted galleries. iSTear me sat this woman, her- 
self the living ruin of so extraordinary a for- 
tune. A confused and undefinable emotion 
forced me to silence. The queen also seemed 
absorbed in her reflections. 




INTERVIEW IN THE COLISEUM. 



1824.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 273 



Interview at the Coliseum. 



"'How many events have contributed to 
bring us together,' she said finally, turning to- 
wards me, 'events of which I often have been 
the puppet or the victim, without having fore- 
seen or provoked them.' 

" I could not help thinking that this preten- 
sion to the role of a victim was a little hazard- 
ous. At that time I was under the conviction 
that she had not been a stranger to the return 
from the island of Elba. Doubtless the queen 
divined my thoughts, since it is hardly possible 
for me to hide my sentiments. My bearing 
and face betray me in spite of myself. 

" 'I see plainly,' she said earnestly, 'that you 
share an opinion that has injured me deeply; 
and it was to controvert it that I wanted to 
speak to you freely. Henceforth you will jus- 
tify me, I hope ; for I can clear mj'self of the 
charge of ingratitude and treason, which would 
abase me in my own eyes if I had been guilty 
of.them.' 

"She was silent a moment and then resumed. 
'In 1814, after the abdication of Fontainebleau, 
I considered that the Emperor had renounced 
al) his rights to the throne, and that his family 
ought to follow his example. It was my wish 
to remain in France, under a title that would 
18 



2T-i HORTENSE. [1824. 



Intei*view at the Coliseum. 



not give umbrage to the new Government. At 
the request of the Emperor of Eussia, Louis 
XVIII. gave me authority to assume the title 
of Duchess of St. Leu, and confirmed me in the 
possession of my private property. In an au- 
dience that I obtained to thank him, he treated 
me with so much courtesy and kindness that I 
was sincerely grateful ; and after having freely 
accepted his favors I could not think of con- 
spiring against him. 

" ' I heard of the landing of the Emperor 
only through public channels, and it gave me 
much more annoyance than pleasure. I knew 
the Emperor too well to imagine that he would 
have attempted such an enterprise without 
having certain reasons to hope for success. 
But the prospect of a civil war afflicted me 
deeply, and I was convinced that we could not 
escape it. The speedy arrival of the Emperor 
baffled all my previsions. 

" ' On hearing of the departure of the kiiig, 
and picturing him to mj^self old, infirm, and 
forced to abandon his country again, I was 
sensibly touched. The idea that he might be 
accusing me of ingratitude and treason was in- 
supportable to me; and, notwithstanding all 
tlie risk of such a step, I wrote to him to ex- 



1824.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 275 

Interview at the Coliseum. 

culpate myself from any participation in the 
events which had just taken place. 

" ' On the evening of the 20th of March, 
being advised of the Emperor's approach by 
his old minister, I presented myself at the Tu- 
ileries to await his coming. I saw liim arrive, 
surrounded, pressed, and borne onward by a 
crowd of officers of all ranks. In all this tu- 
mult I could scarcely accost him. He received 
me coldly, said a few words to me, and ap- 
pointed an interview for next day. The Em- 
peror has always inspired me with .fear, and 
his tone on this occasion was not calculated 
to reassure me. I presented mj^self, however, 
with as calm a bearing as was possible. I was 
introduced into his private room; and we were 
scarcely alone when he advanced toward me 
quickly, and said brusquely, 

" ' " Have you then so poorly comprehended 
your situation that you could renounce your 
name, and the rank you held from me, to ac- 
cept a title given by the Bourbons ?" 

" ' " My duty sire," I replied, summoning 
up all my courage to answer him, "was to 
think of my children's future, since the abdi- 
cation of your Majesty left me no longer any 
other to fulfill.'' 



276 HoRTENSE. [1824, 

Interview at the Coliseum. 

" ' " Your children," exclaimed the Emper- 
or, " your children ! Were they not my neph- 
ews before they were your sons ? Have you 
forgotten that? Had you the right to strip 
them of the rank that belonged to them ?" 
And as I looked at him, all amazed, he added, 
with increasing rage, " Have you not read the 
Code, then ?" 

"/I avowed my ignorance, recalling to my- 
self that he had formerly considered it repre- 
hensible, in any woman, and especially in mem- 
bers of his own family, to dare to avow that 
they knew any thing about legislation. Then 
he explained to me with volubility the article 
in the law prohibiting any change in the state 
of minors, or the making of any renunciation 
in their name. As he talked he strode up and 
down the room, the windows of which were 
open to admit the beautiful spring sun. I fol- 
lowed him, trying to make him understand 
that, not knowing the laws, I had only thought 
of the interests of my children, and taken coun- 
sel of my heart. The Emperor stopped all of 
a sudden, and turning roughly towards me, 
said, 

" ' " Then it should have told you, Madame, 
that when you shared the prosperity of a fam* 



1824.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 277 



Interview at the Oollseur 



^^Jj yoii ought to know how to submit to its 
misfortunes." 

" ' At these last words I burst into tears. 
But at this moment our conversation was in- 
terrupted by a tremendous uproar which n /ght- 
ened me. The Emperor, while talking, had 
unconsciously approached the window looking 
upon the terrace of the Tuileries, which was 
filled with people, who, upon recognizing him, 
rent the air with frantic acclamations. The 
Emperor, accustomed to control himself, sa- 
luted the people electrified by his presence, 
and I hastened to dry my eyes. But they 
had seen my tears, without the slightest sus- 
picion of their cause. For the next day the 
papers vied with each other in repeating that 
the Emperor had shown himself at the win- 
dows of the Tuileries, accompanied by Queen 
Hortense, and that the Queen was so moved 
by the enthusiasm manifested at the sight of 
her that she could scarcely restrain her tears.' 

" This account," adds Madame Eecamier, 
" had an air of sincerity about it, which shook 
my previous convictions, and the regard I felt 
for the Queen was heightened. From that 
time we became firm friends. We met each 
other every day, sometimes at the Temple of 



278 HoRTENSE. [1824. 



Subsequent meetings. 



Vesta, sometimes at the Baths of Titus, or at 
the Tomb of Cecilia Metella; at others, in some 
one of the numerous churches of the Christian 
city, in the rich galleries of its palaces, or at 
one of the beautiful villas in its environs; and 
such was our punctuality, tliat our two car- 
riages almost always arrived together at the 
appointed place. 

" I found the queen a very fascinating com- 
panion. And she showed such a delicate tact 
in respecting the opinions she knew I held, 
that I could not prevent myself saying that I 
could only accuse her of the one fault of not 
being enough of a Bonapartist. Notwithstand- 
ing the species of intimacy established between 
us, I had always abstained from visiting her, 
when news arrived of ihe death of Euo-ene 
Beauharnais. The Queen loved her brother 
tenderly. I understood the grief she must feel 
in losing her nearest relation and the best 
friend she had in the world, and came quickly 
to a decision. I immediately went to her, and 
found her in the deepest affliction. The whole 
Bonaparte family was there, but that gave me 
little uneasiness. In such cases it is impossi- 
ble for me to consider party interests or pub- 
lic opinion. I have been often blamed for this, 



1824.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 279 



Letter from Hortense. 



and probably shall be again, and I mnst resign 
myself to tbis censure, since I shall never cease 
to deserve it." 

Hortense, immediately upon receiving the 
tidinG^s of the dangerous sickness of her broth- 
er, had written thus to Madame Recamier. 
The letter was dated, 

"Rome, Friday morning, April, 1824. 

"My dear Madame, — It seems to be my 
fate riot to be able to enjoy any pleasures, 
diversions, or interest without the alloy of 
pain. I have news of my brother. He has 
been ill. They kindly assure me that he was 
better when the letter was sent, but I can not 
help being extremely anxious. I have a pre- 
sentiment that this is his last illness, and I am 
far from him. I trust that God will not de- 
prive me of the only friend left me — the best 
and most honorable man on earth. I am go- 
ing to St. Peter's to pray. That will comfort 
me perhaps, for my very anxiety frightens 
me. One becomes weak and superstitious in 
grief I can not therefore go with you to-day, 
but I shall be happy to see you, if you would 
like to join me at St. Peter's. I know that 
you are not afraid of the unhappy, and that 



280 - HoRTENSE. [1824. 

Letter from Hortense. 

you bring them happiness. To wish for you 
now is enough to prove to you my regard /or 
you. Hortense.'^ 

Soon after the death of Prince Eugene, Hor- 
tense returned to Arenemberg. From that 
place she wrote to Madame Kecamier, under 
dateof June 10th, 1824: 

" You were kind enough, Madame, to wish 
to hear from me. I can not say that I am 
well, when I have lost every thing on this 
earth. Meanwhile I am not in ill health. I 
have just had another heart-break. I have 
seen all my brother's things. I do not recoil 
from this pain, and perhaps I may find in it 
some consolation. TLiis life, so full of troubles, 
can disturb no longer the friends for whom we 
mourn. He, no doubt, is happy. With your 
sympathies you can imagine all my feelings. 

" I am at present in my retreat. The scene- 
ry is superb. In spite of the lovely sky of 
Italy, I still find Arenemberg very beautiful. 
But I must always be pursued by regrets. It 
is undoubtedly my fate. Last year I was so 
contented. I was very proud of not repining, 
not wishing for any thing in this world. I 
had a good brother, good children. To-day 



1824] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 281 

Letter from Hortense. 

how much need have I to repeat to myself that 
there are still some left to whom I am neces- 
sary ! 

" But I am talking a great deal about my- 
self, and I have nothing to tell you, if it be not 
that you have been a great comfort to me, and 
that I shall always be pleased to see you ngain. 
You are among those persons to whom it is 
not needful to relate one's life or one's feelings. 
The heart is the best interpreter, and they who 
thus read us become necessary to us. 

" I do not ask you about your plans, and 
nevertheless I am interested to know them. 
Do not be like me, who live without a future, 
and who expect to remain where fate puts 
me; for I may stay at my country-place all 
winter, if I can have all the rooms heated. 
Sometimes the wind seems to carry the house 
off, and the snow, I am told, is of frightful 
depth. But it requires little courage to sur- 
mount these obstacles. On the contrary, these 
great effects of nature are sometimes not with- 
out their charms. Adieu. Do not entirely 
forget me. Believe me, your friendship has 
done me good. You know what a comfort a 
friendly voice from one's native country isj 
when it comes to us in misfortune and isola- 



282 HoR TENSE. [1824. 



Disgrace of Chateaubriand. 



tion. Be kind enough to tell me that I am 
unjust if I complain too much of my destiny, 
and that I have still some friends left. 

" HORTENSE." 

Just about this time M. de Chateaubriand, 
the illustrious friend of Madame Recamier, was 
quite insultingly dismissed from the ministry 
for not advocating a law of which the king ap- 
proved. The disgrace of the minister created 
a very deep sensation. In allusion to it, Hor- 
tensc wrote to Madame Recamier, from Aren- 
emberg, Sept. 11, 1824, as follows : 

"I expected to hear from you on your re- 
turn from Naples, and as I have not heard, I 
know not where to find you. I have fancied 
that you were on the road to Paris, because I 
always imagine that we go where the heart 
goes, and where we can be useful to our friends. 
It is curious to think what a chain the affections 
are. Why, I myself, secluded from the world, 
stranger to every thing, am sorry to see so dis- 
tinguished a man shut out from public life. Is 
it on account of the interest you have made me 
take in that quarter, or is it, rather, because, 
like a Frenchwoman, I love to see merit and 
superiority honored in my country? 



1824.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 283 



Letter from Hortense. 



^' At present I am no longer alone. I have 
my cousin with me, the Grand Duchess of Ba- 
den, a most accomplished person. The bril- 
liancy of her imagination, the vivacity of her 
wit, the correctness of her judgment, together 
with the perfect balance of all her faculties, 
render her a charming and a remarkable wom- 
an. She enlivens my solitude and softens my 
profound grief. We converse in the language 
of our country. It is that of the heart, you 
know, since atKome we understood each other 
so well. 

I claim your promise to stop on the way 
at Arenemberg. It will always be to me very 
sweet to see you. I can not separate you 
from one of my greatest sorrows ; which is to 
say that you are very dear to me, and that I 
shall be happy to have an opportunity to as- 
sure you of my affection. Hortense." 

Madame Recamier, after leaving Rome, kept 
up her friendly relations and correspondence 
with Queen Hortense. 

The winter of 1829 Hortense spent wnth her 
sons in Rome. Chateaubriand was then French 
ambassador in that cit}^ Upon his leaving, 
to return to Paris, Hortense wrote to Madame 



284 HORTENSE. [1829. 

Letter from Horteiise. 



Eecamier the following letter, in which she al- 
ludes to his departure : 

"Rome, May 10, 1829. 

" Dear Madame, — I am not willing that one 
of your friends should leave the place where I 
am living, and where I have had the pleasure *■ 
of meeting you, without carrying to you a to- 
ken of my remembrance. I also wish you to 
convey to him my sentiments. Kindnesses 
show themselves in the smallest things, and 
are also felt by those who are the object of 
them, without their being equal to the expres- 
sion of their feelings. But the benevolence 
which has been able to reach me has made me 
regret not being permitted to know him whom 
I have learned to appreciate, and who, in a for- 
eign land, so worthily represented to me my 
country, at least such as I always should like 
to look upon her, as a friend and protectress. 

"I am soon to return to my mountains, 
where I hope to hear from you. Do not for- 
get me entirely. Eemember that I love you, 
and that your friendship contributed to soothe 
one of the keenest sorrows of my life. These 
are two inseparable memories. Thus never 
doubt my tender love, in again assuring you 
of which I take such pleasure. 

"TIortense." 



1830.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 285 

Revolution in France. 

The year 1830 came. Louis Napoleon was 
then twenty-two years of age. An insurrec- 
tion in Paris overthrew the old Bourbon dy- 
nasty, and established its modification in the 
throne of Louis Philippe. This revolution in 
France threw all Europe into comniption. All 
over Italy the people rose to cast off the yoke 
which the Allies, who had triumphed at Water- 
loo, had imposed upon them. The exiled mem- 
bers of the Bonaparte family met at Eome to 
decide what to do in the emergency. Hortense 
attended the meeting with her two sons. The 
eldest, Napoleon Louis, had married his cousin, 
the daughter of Joseph Bonaparte. Both of 
the young princes, with great enthusiasm, join- 
ed the patriots. Hortense was very much 
alarmed for the safety of her sons. She could 
see but little hope that the insurrection could 
be successful in Italy, for the " Holy Alliance " 
was pledged to crush it. She wrote imploring- 
ly to her children. Louis Napoleon replied, 

" Your affectionate heart will understand 
our determination. We have contracted en- 
gagements which we can not break. Can we 
remain deaf to the voice of the unfortunate 
who call to us? We bear a name which 
obliges us to listen." 



286 HoRTENSE. [1830. 



Attempt of the Italian patriot-' 



We have not here space to describe the con- 
flict. The Italian patriots, overwhelmed by the 
armies of Austria, were crushed or dispersed. 
The elder of the sons of Hortense, Napoleon 
Louis, died from the fatigue and exposure of 
the campaign, and was buried at Florence. 
The younger son, Louis Napoleon, enfeebled 
by sickness, was in the retreat with the van- 
quished patriots to Ancona, on the shores of 
the Adriatic. The distracted mother was has- 
teninsf to her children when she heard of the 
death of the one, and of the sickness and peril- 
ous condition of the other. She found Louis 
Napoleon at Ancona, in a burning fever. The 
Aastrians were gathering up the vanquished 
patriots wherever they could be found in their 
dispersion, and were mercilessly shooting them. 
Hortense was in an agony of terror. She knew 
that her son, if captured, would surely be shot. 
The Austrians were soon in possession of An- 
cona. They eagerly sought for the young 
prince, who bore a name which despots have 
ever feared. A price was set upon his head. 
The sagacity of the mother rescued the child. 
She made arrangements for a frail skiff to steal 
out from the harbor and cross the Adriatic Sea 
to the shores of Illy ria. Deceived by this strata- 



1830.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 287 



Escape of Louis Napoleon. 



gem, tlie Austrian police bad no doubt tbattbe 
young prince had escaped. Their vigilance was 
accordingly relaxed. Hortense then took a car- 
riao-c for Pisa. Her son, burninor ^Yith fever and 
emaciate from grief and fatigue, mounted the 
box behind in the diso-uise of afootman. In this 
manner, exposed every moment to the danger 
of being arrested by the Austrian police, the 
anxious mother and her son traversed the whole 
breadth of Italy. As Louis Napoleon had, with 
arms in his hands, espoused the cause of the 
people in their struggle against Austrian despot- 
ism, he could expect no mercy, and there was 
no safety for him anywhere within reach of 
the Austrian arm. 

By a law of the Bourbons, enacted in 1816, 
which law was re-enacted by the Government 
of Louis Philippe, no memberof the Bonaparte 
family could enter France but under the pen- 
alty of death. But Napoleon L, when in pow- 
er, had been very generous to the House of Or- 
leans. Hortense, also, upon the return of Na- 
poleon from Elba, when the Royalists were fly- 
ing in terror from the kingdom, had protected 
and warmly befriended distinguished members 
of the famil\^ Undei- these circumstances, dis- 
tracted by the fear that her only surviving child 



288 HORTENSE. [1831. 



They seek refuge in France. 



would be arrested and shot, and knowing not 
which way to turn for safety, the mother and 
the son decided, notwithstanding the menace of 
death suspended over them, to seek a moment- 
ary refuge, incognito, iu France. 

Embarking in a small vessel, still under as- 
sumed names, they safely reached Cannes. At 
this port Napoleon had landed sixteen years 
ago, in his marvellous return from Elba. The 
mother and son proceeded immediately to Paris, 
resolved to cast themselves upon the generosi- 
ty of Louis Philippe. Louis Napoleon was still 
very sick, and needed his bed rather than the 
fatigues of travel. It was the intention of his 
mother, so soon as the health of her son was 
sufficiently restored, to continue their journey 
and cross over to England. 

Hortense, in her "Memoires," speaking of 
these hours of adversity's deepest gloom, writes: 

" At length I arrived at the barrier of Paris. 
I experienced a sort of self-love in exhibiting 
to my son, by its most beautiful entrance, that 
capital, of which he could probably retain but a 
feeble recollection. I ordered the postillion to 
take us through the Boulevards to the Rue de 
la Paix, and to stop at the first hotel. Chance 
conducted us to the Hotel D'Hollande. I oc* 



1881.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 289 



The vicissitudes of life. 



cupied a small apartment on the third floor, du 
premier^ first above the entresol. From my 
room I could see the Boulevard and the column 
in the Place Yendome. I experienced a sort 
of saddened pleasure, in my isolation, in once 
more beholding that city which I was about to 
leave, perhaps forever, without speaking to a 
person, and without being distracted by the 
impression which that view^ made upon me." 

Twenty-two years before, Hortense, in this 
city, had given birth to the child who was now 
sick and a fugitive. Austria was thirsting for 
his blood, and the Government of his own na- 
tive land had laid upon him the ban of exile, 
and it was at the peril of their lives that either 
mother or son placed their feet upon the soil 
of France. And yet the birth of this prince 
was welcomed by salvos of artillery, and by 
every enthusiastic demonstration of public re- 
joicing, from Hamburg to Rome, and from the 
Pyrenees to the Danube. 

Louis Napoleon was still suffering from a 
burning fever. A few days of repose seemed 
essential to the preservation of his life. Hor- 
tense immediately wrote a letter to King Louis 
Philippe, informing him of the arrival of herself 
and son, incognito, in Paris, of the circumstan- 
19 



290 HORTENSE. [1831. 

Obligations of Louis Philippe to llortense. 

ces whicli had rendered the step necessary, and 
casting themselves upon his protection. Louis 
Philippe owed Hortense a deep debt of grati- 
tude. He had joined the Allies in their war 
against France. He had come back to Paris in 
the rear of their batteries. By French law he 
was a traitor doomed to die. When Napoleon 
returned from Elba he fled from France in ter- 
ror,* again to join the Allies. He was then the 
Duke of Orleans. The Duchess of Orleans had 
slipped upon the stairs and broken her leg. She 
could not be moved. Both Hortense and Na- 
poleon treated her with the greatest kindness. 
Of several letters which the Duchess of Orleans 
wrote Hortense, full of expressions of obliga* 
tion and gratitude, we will quote but one. 

The Duchess of Orleans to Queen Hortense, 

" April 19, 1815. 

" Madame, — I am truly afflicted that the fee- 
ble state of my health deprives me of the oppor- 
tunity of expressing to }■ our majesty, as I could 
wish, my gratitude for the interest she has man- 
ifested in my situation. I am still suffering 
much pain, as my limb has not yet healed. But 
I can not defer expressing to 3^our majesty, and 
to his majesty, the Emperor, to whom I beg 



1831.] Peaceful Days, yet Sad. 29a 

The Duchess of Bourbon. 

you to be my interpreter, the gratitude I feel. 
I am, madame, 3^our majesty's servant, 
*' Louise Marie Adelaide De 

Bourbon, Duchess D'Orleans. 

Tlic Emperor, in response to the solicitations 
of Hortense, had permitted the Duchess of Or- 
leans to remain in Paris, and also had assured 
her of a pension of four hundred thousand francs 
($80,000). The Duchess of Bourbon, also, aunt 
of the Duke of Orleans, was permitted to re- 
main in the city. And she, also, that she might 
be able to maintain the position due to her 
rank, received from the Emperor a pension of 
two hundred thousand francs ($40,000). The 
Duchess of Bourbon had written to Hortense 
for some great favors, which Hortense obtain- 
ed for her. In reply to the assurance of Hor- 
tense that she would do what she could to aid 
her, the duchess wrote, under date of April 
29th, 1815: 

" I am exceedingly grateful for your kind- 
ness, and I have full confidence in the desire 
which you express to aid me. I can hardly 
believe that the Emperor will refuse a demand 
which I will venture to say is so just, and par- 
ticularly when it is presented by you. Believe 



292 HORTENSE. [1831. 

Letter to Hortense. 

me, madame, that my gratitude equals the sen- 
timents of which I beg you to receive, in ad- 
vance, the most sincere attestation." 

Under these circumstances Ilortense could 
not doubt that she might venture to appeal to 
the magnanimity of the king. 



1831.] Life at Arenemberg. 293 

Embarrassments of Louis Philippe- 



Chapter IX. 
Life at Arenemberg. 

IT must be confessed that the position of 
Louis Pliilippe was painful when he re- 
ceived the note from Hortense announcing that 
she and her son were in Paris. An insurrec- 
tion in the streets of Paris had overthrown the 
throne of the Bourbons, and with it the doc- 
trine of legitimacy. Louis Philippe had been 
placed upon the vacant throne, not by the voice 
of the French people, but by a small clique in 
Paris. There was danger that allied Europe 
would again rouse itself to restore the Bour- 
bons. Louis Philippe could make no appeal 
to the masses of the people for support, for he 
was not the king of their choice. Should he 
do any thing indicative of friendship for the 
Bonapartes, it might exasperate all dynastic 
Europe ; and should the French people learn 
that an heir of the Empire was in France, their 
enthusiasm might produce convulsions the end 
of which no one could foresee. 

Thus unstably seated upon his throne, Louis 



29i HORTENSE. [1831. 

The minister's interview with llortense. 

Philippe was in a state of great embarrassment. 
lie felt that he could not consult the impulses 
of his heart, but that he must listen to the cold- 
er dictates of prudence. He therefore did not 
venture personally to call upon Queen Hor- 
tense, but sent Casimir Perier, president of his 
council, to see her. As Perier entered her 
apartment, llortense said to him : 

"Sir, I am a mother. My only means of 
saving my son was to come to France. I know 
very well that I have transgressed a law. I 
am well aware of the risks we run. You have 
a right to cause our arrest. It would be just." 

"Just?" responded the minister, "no; legal? 
yes." The result of some anxious deliberation 
was that, in consideration of the alarming sick- 
ness of the young prince, they were to be per- 
mitted, provided they preserved the strictest 
incognito, to remain in the city one week. 
The king also granted Hortense a private 
audience. He himself knew full well the sor- 
rows of exile. He spoke feelingly of the weary 
years which he and his family had spent in 
banishment from France. 

"I have experienced," said he to Hortense, 
" all the griefs of exile. And it is not in ac- 
cordance with my wishes that yours have not 



1831.] Life at Arenemberg. 295 



Hortense ordered to leave France. 



yet ceased." Hortense also saw the queen and 
the king's sister. There were but these four 
persons who were allowed to know that Hor- 
tense was in Paris. And but two of these, the 
king and his minister, knew that Prince Louis 
Napoleon was in the city. But just then came 
the 5th of May. It was the anniversary of the 
death of the Emperor at St. Helena. As ever, 
in this anniversary, immense crowds of the 
Parisian people gathered around the column 
on the Place Yendome with their homage to 
their beloved Emperor, and covering the rail- 
ing with wreaths of immortelles and other 
flowers. Had the populace known that from 
his window an heir of the great Emperor was 
looking upon them, it would have created a 
flame of enthusiasm which scarcely any earth- 
ly power could have quenched. 

The anxiety of the king, in view of the peril, 
was so great, that Hortense was informed that 
the public safety required that she should im- 
mediately leave France, notwithstanding the 
continued sickness of her son. The order was 
imperative. But both the king and the minis- 
ter offered her money, that she might continue 
her journey to London. But Hortense did 
not need pecuniary aid. She had just cashed 



296 HORTENSE. [1831. 



Letter from Louis Napoleon. 



at the bank an order for sixteen thousand 
francs. Before leaving the city, Louis Kapo- 
leon wrote to the king a very eloquent and 
dignified letter, in which he claimed his right, 
as a French citizen, who had never committed 
any crime, of residing in his native land. He 
recognized the king as the representative of a 
great nation, and earnestly offered his services 
in defense of his country in the ranks of the 
arm}^ He avowed that in Italy he had es- 
poused the cause of the people in opposition 
to aristocratic usurpation, and he demanded the 
privilege of taking his position, as a French 
citizen, beneath the tri-color of France. 

No reply was returned to this letter. It is 
said that the spirit and energy it displayed mag- 
nified the alarm of the king, and increased his 
urgency to remove the writer, as speedily as 
possible, from the soil of France. 

On the 6th of May Hortense and her son 
left Paris, and proceeded that day to Chantilly. 
Travelling slowly, they were four days in reach- 
ing Calais, where they embarked for England. 
Upon their arrival in London, both Hortense 
and her son met with a very flattering recep- 
tion from gentlemen of all parties. For some 
time they were the guests of the Duke of Bed' 



1882.] Life at Arenemberg. 297 



Kight of citizenship conferred. 



ford, at Woburn Abbey. Talleyrand, who was 
then French ambassador at the Court of St. 
James, with characteristic diplomatic caution 
I'alled himself, and by means of an agent sought 
to ascertain what were the secret plans and 
purposes of Queen Hortense. 

Several months were passed very profitably 
in England, and as pleasantly as was possible 
for persons who had been so long buflfetted by 
the storms of adversity, who were exiles from 
their native land, and who knew not in what 
direction to look for a home of safety. While 
in this state of perplexity, both mother and son 
were exceedingly gratified b}^ receiving from 
the Canton of Thurgovia the following docu- 
ment, conferring the rights of citizenship upon 
the young prince. The document bore the 
date of Thurgovia, April 80th, 1832. 

" We, the President of the Council of the 
Canton of Thurgovia, declare that, the Com- 
mune of Sallenstein having offered the right 
of communal citizenship to his highness, Prince 
Louis Napoleon, out of gratitude for the nu- 
merous favors conferred upon the canton by 
the family of the Duchess of St. Leu, since her 
residence in Arenemberg; and the grand coun- 
cil having afterwards, by its unanimous vote 



298 HoRTENSE. [1882, 



Response of tlie prince. 



of the 14tli of April, sanctioned this award, and 
decreed unanimous!}^ to his highness the right 
of honorary burghership of the canton, with 
the desire of proving how highly it honors the 
generous character of this family, and how 
highly it appreciates the preference they have 
shown for the canton ; declares that his high- 
ness, Prince Louis Napoleon, son of the Duke 
and Duchess of St. Leu, is acknowledged as a 
citizen of the Canton of Thurgovia." 

The prince, in the response which he made 
in the name of his mother and himself, ex- 
pressed their gratitude for the kindness with 
which they had ever been treated, and thank- 
ed them especially for the honor which they 
had conferred upon him, in making him the 
" citizen of a free nation." As a testimonial 
of his esteem he sent to the authorities of the 
canton two brass six -pounder cannon, with 
complete trains and equipage. He also found- 
ed a free school in the village of Sallenstein. 

Encouraged by these expressions of kindly 
feeling, both Hortense and her son were very 
desirous to return to their quiet and much- 
loved retreat at Arenemberg. The prince, 
however, who never allowed himself to waste 
a moment of time, devoted himself, during this 



1832.] Life at arenembekg. 299 

Permission to pass through Fiance. 

short visit to England, assiduously to the study 
of the workings of British institutions, and to 
the progress which the nation had attained in 
the sciences and the arts. It was not easy for 
Hortense and her son to return to ArenemlDerg. 
The Government of Louis Philippe would not 
permit them to pass through France. Austria 
vigilantly and indignantly watched every path- 
way through Italy. They made application 
for permission to pass through Belgium, but 
this was denied them. The Belgian throne, 
which was afterwards offered to Leopold, was 
then vacant. It was feared that the people 
would rally at the magic name of Kapoleon, 
and insist that the crown should be placed 
upon the brow of the young prince. 

In this sore dilemma, Louis Philippe at last 
consented, very reluctantl}^, that they might 
pass hurriedly through France, Hortense as- 
suming the name of the Baroness of Arenem- 
berg, and both giving their pledge not to enter 
Paris. Having obtained the necessary pass- 
ports, Hortense, with her son, left London in 
August, and, crossing the Channel, landed at 
Calais, thus placing their feet once more upon 
the soil of their native land, from which they 
were exiled by Bourbon power simply because 



800 HORTENSE. [1832. 

Loiiirf Napoleon invited to the throve of Poland. 

they bore the name of Bonaparte, which all 
France so greatly revered. In conformity with 
their agreement they avoided Paris, though 
they visited the tomb of Josephine, at Kuel. 

They had scarce!}^ reached Switzerland when 
a deputation of distinguished Poles called upon 
the young prince, urging him to place himself 
at the head of their nation, then in arms, en- 
deavoring to regain independence. The letter 
containing this offer was dated August 31, 
1831. It was signed b}^ General Kniazewiez, 
Count Plater, and many other of the most il- 
lustrious men of Poland. 

" To whom," it was said, "can the direction 
of our enterprise be better intrusted than to 
the nephew of the greatest captain of all ages? 
A young Bonaparte appearing in our country, 
tri-color in hand, would produce a moral ef- 
fect of incalculable consequences. Come, then, 
young hero, hope of our country. Trust to 
the waves, which already know your name, 
the fortunes of Caesar, and what is more, the 
destinies of liberty. You will gain the grati- 
tude of your brethren in arms and the admira- 
tion of the world." 

The chivalric spirit of the young prince was 
arbused. Notwithstanding the desperation of 



1832.] Life at Arenemberg. 801 

Visit of Madame Recamier. 

the enterprise and the great anxiety of his 
mother, Louis Kapoleon left Arenemberg to 
join the Poles. LEe had not proceeded far 
when he received the intelligence that War- 
saw was captured and that the patriots were 
crushed. Sadly he returned to Arenemberg. 
Again, as ever, he sought solace for his disap- 
pointment in intense application to study. In 
August, 1832, Madame Recamier with M. de 
Chateaubriand made a visit to Hortense, at the 
chateau of Arenemberg. The biographer of 
Madame Eecamier in the following terms re- 
cords this visit : 

" In August, 1832, Madame Recamier de- 
cided to make a trip to Switzerland, where she 
was to meet M. de Chateaubriand, who was al- 
ready wandering in the mountains. She went 
to Constance. The chateau of Arenemberg, 
where the Duchess of St. Leu passed her sum- 
mers, and which she had bought and put in 
order, overlooks Lake Constance. It was im- 
possible for Madame Recamier not to give a 
few days to this kind and amiable person, es- 
pecially in her forlorn and isolated position. 
The duchess, too, had lost, the year previous, 
her eldest son, Napoleon, who died in Italy. 

"When M. de Chateaubriand joined Madame 



802 HoRTENSE. [1832. 



Accomplishmenta of the Piince. 



Recamier at Constance, he was invited to dine 
with her at the castle. Hortense received him 
with the most gracious kindness, and read tc 
him some extracts from her own memoirs. 
The establishment at Arenemberg was elegant, 
and on a large though not ostentatious scale. 
Hortense's manners, in her own house, were 
simple and affectionate. She talked too much, 
perhaps, about her taste for a life of retirement, 
love of nature, and aversion to greatness, to be 
wholly believed. After all these protestations, 
her visitor could not perceive without surprise 
the care the duchess and her household took 
to treat Prince Louis like a sovereign. He 
had the precedence of every one. 

"The prince, polite, accomplished, and taci- 
turn, appeared to Madame Recamier to be a 
very different person from his elder brother, 
whom she had known in Rome, young, gen- 
erous, and enthusiastic. The prince sketched 
for her, in sepia, a view of Lake Constance, 
overlooked by the chateau of Arenemberg. 
In the foreground a shepherd, leaning against 
a tree, is watching his flock and playing on 
the flute. This design, pleasantly associated 
with Madame Recamier's visit, is now histori- 
cally interesting. For the last ten years the 



1832.] Life at Arenemberg. 803 

Heirs to the Empire. 

signature of the author has been affixed to 
very different things." 

But a month before this visit, in J\.\ly, 1832, 
Napoleon's only son, the Duke of Eeichstadt, 
died at the age of twenty-one years. All con- 
cur in testifying to his noble character. He 
died sadl}', ever cherishing the memory of his 
illustrious sire, who had passed to the grave 
throug^h the Ions; ao^onv of St. Helena. The 
death of the Duke of Reichstadt brouoht Louis 
Napoleon one step nearer to the throne of the 
Empire, according to the vote of the French. 
There were now but two heirs between him 
and the crown — his uncle Joseph and liis fa- 
ther Louis. Both of these were advanced in 
life, and the latter exceedingly infirm. The 
legitimists denied that tlie people had any 
right to establish a dynasty ; but it was clear 
that whatever rights popular suffrage could 
confer would descend to Louis Napoleon upon 
the death of Joseph and of Louis Bonaparte. 
Louis Napoleon had no doubt that the im- 
mense majority of the French people would 
improve the first possible opportunity to re- 
establish the Empire ; and consequently the 
conviction which he so confidently cherished, 
that he was destined to be the Emperor of 



304 HoRTENSE. [1832. 

Studious hiibits of Louis Napoleon. 

France, was not a vague and baseless impres- 
sion, but the dictate of sound judgment. 

The Holy Alliance now contemplated Louis 
Napoleon with great anxiety, and kept a very 
close watch upon all his movements. The Gov- 
ernment of Louis Philippe was even more un- 
popular in France than the Government of the 
elder branch of the Bourbons had been. The 
crown had not been placed upon his brow either 
by legitimacy or by popular suffrage^ and there 
were but few whom he could rally to his sup- 
port. 

With never-flagging zeal the prince prose- 
cuted his studies in the peaceful retreat at 
Arenemberg, that be might be prepared for 
the high destiny which he believed awaited 
him. He published several very important 
treatises, which attracted the attention of Eu- 
rope, and which gave him a high position, not 
merely as a man of letters, but as a statesman 
of profound views. The Spedaieur Militaire, in 
the review of the " Manual of Artillery," by 
Prince Louis Napoleon, says: 

" In looking over this book, it is impossible 
not to be struck with the laborious industry of 
which it is the fruit. Of this we can get an 
idea by the list of authors, French, German, and 



1832.] Life at Arenemeerg. 805 

Testimony of an English gentleman. 



English, which he has consulted. And this list 
is no vain catalogue. We can find in the text 
the ideas, and often the very expressions, of 
the authorities which he has quoted. When 
we consider how much study and perseverance 
must have been employed to succeed in pro- 
ducing only the literary part (for even the illus- 
trations scattered through the work are from 
the author's own designs) of a book which re- 
quires such profound and varied attainments, 
and when we remember that this author was 
born on the steps of a throne, we can not help 
being seized with admiration for the man who 
thus bravely meets the shocks of adversity." 

A gentleman, in a work entitled ''Letters 
from London," in the following language de- 
scribes the prince's mode of life at Arenem- 
berg: 

" From his tenderest youth Prince Louis Na- 
poleon has despised the habits of an effeminate 
life. Although his mother allowed him a con- 
siderable sum for his amusements, these were 
the last things he thought of. All this money 
was spent in acts of beneficence, in founding 
schools or houses of refuge, in printing his 
military or political works, or in making scien- 
tific experiments. His mode of life was always 
9.0 



806 HoRTENSE. [1882. 

Personal appearance of Louis Napoleon. 



frugal, and rather rude. At Arenemberg it 
was quite military. 

" His room, situated not in the castle, but in 
a small pavilion beside it, offered none of the 
grandeur or elegance so prevalent in Hortense's 
apartment. It was, in truth, a regular soldier's 
tent. Neither carpet nor arm-chair appeared 
there; nothing that could indulge the body; 
nothing but books of science and arms of all 
kinds. As for himself, he was on horseback 
at break of day, and before any one had risen 
in the castle he had ridden several leagues. He 
then went to work in his cabinet. Accustomed 
to military exercises, as good a rider as could 
be seen, he never let a day pass without devot- 
ing some hours to sword and lance practice 
and the use of infantry arms, which he managed 
with extraordinary rapidity and address." 

His personal appearance at that time is thus 
graphically sketched. " He is middle-sized, of 
an agreeable countenance, and has a military 
air. To personal advantages he joins the more 
seductive distinction of manners simple, natu- 
ral, and full of good taste and ease. At first 
sight I was struck with his resemblance to 
Prince Eugene, and to the Empress Josephine, 
his grandmother. But I did not remark a like 




THE STUDY OF LOUIS NAPOLEON. 



1833.] Life at Aren-emberg. 309 

His reaemblance to the Kinperor. 

resemblance to the Emperor. But by atten- 
tively observing the essential features, that is, 
those not depending on more or less fullness 
or on more or less beard, we soon discover that 
the l^apoleonic type is reproduced with aston- 
ishing fidelity. It is, in fact, the same lofty 
forehead, broad and straight, the same nose, of 
fine proportions, the same gray eyes, though 
the expression is milder. It is particularly the 
same contour and inclination of the head. The 
latter especially, when the prince turns, is so 
full of the Napoleon air, as to make a soldier 
of the Old Guard thrill at the sight. And if 
the eye rests on the outline of these forms, it 
is impossible not to be struck, as if before the 
head of the Emperor, with the imposing grand- 
eur of the Roman profile, of which the lines, 
so defined, so grave, I will even add and so sol- 
emn, are, as it were, the soul of great destinies. 
" The distinguishing expression of the fea- 
tures of the young prince is that of nobleness 
and gravity. And yet, far from being harsh, 
his countenance, on the contrary, breathes a 
sentiment of mildness and benevolence. It 
seems that the maternal type which is pre- 
served in the lower part of his face has come 
to correct the rigidity of the imperial lines, as 



810 HORTENSE. [1833. 

Letter to M. Belmontet. 

the blood of the Beauharnais seems to have 
tempered in him the southern violence of the 
Napoleon blood. Bat what excites the greatest 
interest is that indefinable tinge of melancholy 
and though tfulness observable in the slightest 
movement, and revealing the noble sufferings 
of exile. 

'iBut after this portrait you must not figure 
to yourself one of those elegant young men, 
those Adonises of romance who excite the ad- 
miration of the drawing-room. There is noth- 
ing of effeminacy in the young Napoleon. The 
dark shadows of his countenance indicate an 
energetic nature. His assured look, his glance 
at once quick and thoughtful, every thing 
about him points out one of those exceptional 
natures, one of those great souls that live by 
meditating on great things, and that alone are 
capable of accomplishing them." 

About this time the young prince wrote as 
follows to his friend, the poet Belmontet: 
" Still far from my countrj^ and deprived of 
all that can render life dear to a manly heart, 
I yet endeavor to retain my courage in spite 
of fate, and find my only consolation in hard 
study. Adieu. Sometimes think of all the 
bitter thoughts which must fill my m.ind when 



1833.] Life at Arenembekg. 311 

Letter to a friend. 



I contrast the past glories of France with her 
presen t condition and hopeless future. It needs 
no little courage to press on alone, as one can, 
towards the goal which one's heart has vowed 
to reach. Nevertheless I must not despair, 
the honor of France has so many elements of 
vitality in it." 

Some months later he wrote to the same 
friend: "My life has been until now marked 
only by profound griefs and stifled wishes. 
The blood of Napoleon rebels in my veins, in 
not being able to flow for the national glory. 
Until the present time there has been nothing 
remarkable in my life, excepting my birth. 
The sun of glory sbone upon my cradle. Alas ! 
that is all. But who can complain when the 
Emperor has suffered so much? Faith in the 
future, such is my only hope; the sword of the 
Emperor my only stay ; a glorious death for 
France my ambition. Adieu ! .Think of the 
poor exiles, whose eyes are ever turned towards 
the beloved shores of France. And believe 
that my heart will never cease to beat at the 
sound of country, honor, patriotism, and devo- 
tion." 

Hortense deeply sympathized in the sorrows 
of her son. Like the caged eagle, he was 



312 HOKTENSE. [1684. 



Love of IToitense for her son. 



Struggling against his bars, longing for a lofty 
flight. On the 10th of August, 1834, she wrote 
to their mutual friend, Belmontet, as follows : 

" The state of my affairs obliges me to re- 
main during the winter in my mountain home, 
exposed to all its winds. But what is this 
compared with the dreadful sufferings which 
the Emperor endured upon the rock of St. 
Helena? I would not complain if my son, at 
bis age, did not find himself deprived of all so- 
ciety and completely isolated, without any di* 
version but the laborious pursuits to which he 
is devoted. His courage and strength of soul 
equal his sad and painful destiny. What a 
generous nature ! What a good and noble 
young man! I am proud to be his mother, 
and I should admire him if I were not so. I 
rejoice as much in the nobleness of his charac- 
ter, as I grieve at being unable to render his 
life more happy. He was born for better 
things. He is worthy of them. We contem- 
plate passing a couple of months at Geneva. 
There he will at least hear the French lan- 
guage spoken. That will be an agreeable 
change for him. The mother-tongue, is it not 
almost one's country ?" 

It every day became more and more evident 



1834] Life at Arenemberg. 313 

Column ia the Place Vendome. 

that the throne of Louis Philippe, founded only 
upon the stratagem of a clique in Paris, could 
not stand long. Under these circumstances, 
one of the leading Kepublicans in Paris wrote 
to the prince as follows : 

" The life of the king is daily threatened. 
If one of these attempts should succeed, we 
should be exposed to the most serious convuh 
sions; for there is no longer in France any 
party which can lead the others, nor any man 
who can inspire general confidence. In this 
position, prince, we have turned our eyes to 
you. The great name which you bear, your 
opinions, your character, every thing induces us 
to see in you a point of rallying for the popu- 
lar cause. Hold yourself ready for action, and 
when the time shall come your friends will not 
fail you." 

The Government of Louis Philippe had been 
constrained by the demand of the French peo- 
ple to restore to the summit of the column in 
the Place Vendome the statue of Napoleon, 
which the Allies had torn from it. As the 
colossal image of the Emperor was raised to its 
proud elevation on that majestic shaft, the ut- 
most enthusiasm pervaded not only the streets 
of the metropolis, but entire France. Day af- 



814 HORTENSE. [1834. 



Arc de I'Etoile. 



ter day immense crowds gathered in the place, 
garlanding the railing with wreaths of immor- 
telles, and exhibiting enthusiam which greatly 
alarmed the Government. 

Hortense and Louis, from their place of 
exile, watched these popular demonstrations 
with intensest interest. All France seemed to 
be honoring Napoleon. And yet neither Hor- 
tense nor her son were allowed by the Gov- 
ernment to touch the soil of France under 
penalty of death, simply because they were 
relatives of Napoleon. The completion of the 
Arc de I'Etoile, at the head of the avenue of 
the Champs Elysee, a work which Napoleon 
had originated, was another reminder to the 
Parisians of the genius of the great Emperor. 

The Emperor, with dying breath, had said 
at St. Helena, "It is my wish that my ashes 
may repose on the banks of the Seine, in the 
midst of the French people whom I have loved 
so well." All France was now demanding 
that this wish should be fulfilled. The Gov- 
ernment dared not attempt to resist the popu- 
lar sentiment. The remains were demanded 
of England, and two frigates were sent to trans- 
port them to France. And the whole king- 
dom prepared to receive those remains, and 



1835.] Life at ArenemberCx. 315 

First heir to the Empire. 



honor them with a burial more imposing than 
had ever been conferred upon a mortal before. 

Louis Napoleon and his friends thought that 
the time had now arrived in which it was ex- 
pedient for him to present himself before the 
people of France, and claim their protection 
from the oppression of the French Government. 
It was beheved that the French people, should 
the opportunity^ be presented them, would rise 
at the magic name of Napoleon, overthrow the 
throne of Louis Philippe, and then, bj the 
voice of universal suffrage, would re-establish 
the Empire, 

This would place Joseph Bonaparte on the 
throne, and would at once annul the decree of 
banishment against the whole Bonaparte fami- 
ly. Hortense and Louis Napoleon could then 
return to their native land. As Louis Napo- 
leon was in the direct line of hereditary de- 
scent, the re-establishment of the Empire would 
undoubtedly in the end secure the crown for 
Louis Napoleon. The ever-increasing enthu- 
siasm manifested for the memory of Napoleon 
L, and the almost universal unpopularity of the 
Government of Louis Philippe, led Louis Na- 
poleon and his friends to think that the time 
had come for the restoration of the Empire, or 



S16 HORTENSE. [1836. 

The throne of Louis Philippe menaced. 



rather to restore to the people the right of uni- 
versal suffrage, that thej might choose a re- 
public or empire or a monarchy, as the people 
should judge best for the interests of France. 

It so happened that there was, at that time, 
in garrison at Strasburg the same regiment in 
which General Bonaparte so brilliantly com- 
menced his career at the siege of Toulon, and 
which had received him with so much enthu- 
siasm at Grenoble, on his return from Elba, 
and had escorted him in his triumphant march 
to Paris. Colonel Yaudrey, a very enthusi- 
astic and eloquent young man who had great 
influence over his troops, was in command of 
the regiment. It was not doubted that these 
troops would with enthusiasm rally around an 
heir of the Empire. In preparation for the 
movement, Louis Napoleon held several inter- 
views with Colonel Vaudrey at Baden. In one 
of these interviews the prince said to the colo- 
nel : 

" The days of prejudice are past. The pres- 
tige of divine right has vanished from France 
with the old institutions. A new era has com- 
menced. Henceforth the people are called to 
the free development of their faculties. But 
in this genei\al impulse, impressed by modern 



1836.] Life at Arenembeug. 317 

Keraarks of Louis Napoleon. 

civilization, what can regulate the movement ? 
What government will be sufficiently strong 
to assure to the country the enjoyment of pub- 
lic liberty without agitations, without disorders ? 
It is necessary for a free people that they should 
have a government of immense moral force. 
And this moral force, where can it be found, 
if not in the right and the will of all ? So long 
as a general vote has not sanctioned a govern- 
ment, no matter what that government may be, 
it is not built upon a solid foundation. Adverse 
factions will constantly agitate society ; while 
institutions ratified by the voice of the nation 
will lead to the abolition of parties and will an- 
nihilate individual resistances. 

"A revolution is neither legitimate nor ex- 
cusable except when it is made in the interests 
of the majority of the nation. One may be 
sure that this is the motive which influences 
him, when he makes use of moral influences 
only to attain his ends. If the Government 
have committed so many faults as to render a 
revolution desirable for the nation, if the Na- 
poleonic cause have left sufficiently deep re- 
membrances in French hearts, it will be enough 
for me merely to present myself before the 
soldiers and the people, recalling to their mem 



318 HORTENSE. [1836. 



Peril of the movement*. 



ory their recent griefs and past glory, for them 
to flock around my standard. 

" If I succeed in winning over a regiment, if 
the soldiers to whom I am unknown are roused 
by the sight of the imperial eagle, then all the 
chances w^ill be mine. My cause will be mor- 
ally gained, even if secondary obstacles rise to 
•prevent its success. It is my aim to present a 
popular flag — the most popular, the most glori- 
ous of all, — which shall serve as a rallying- 
point for the generous and the patriotic of all 
parties ; to restore to France her dignity with- 
out universal war, her liberty without license, 
her stability without despotism. To arrive at 
such a result, what must be done? One must 
receive from the people alone all his power 
and all his rights." 

The man who should undertake in this way 
to overthrow an established government, must 
of course peril his life. If unsuccessful, he 
could anticipate no mercy. Hortense perceived 
wnth anxiety that the mind of her son was in- 
tensely absorbed in thoughts which he did not 
reveal to her. On the morning of the 25th of 
October, 1836, Louis Napoleon bade adieu to 
his mother, and left Arenemberg in his private 
carriage, ostensibly to visit friends at Baden 



1836.] Life at Arenemberg. 319 

Letter to Hortense. 

A few days after, Hortense was plunged into 
the deepest distress by the reception of the fol- 
lowing letter: 

" My dear Mother, — You must have been 
very anxious in receiving no tidings from me — 
you who believed me to be with my cousin. 
But your inquietude will be redoubled when 
you learn that I made an attempt at Strasburg, 
which has failed. I am in prison, with several 
other officers. It is for them only that I suf- 
fer. As for myself, in commencing such an en- 
terprise, I was prepared for every thing. Do 
not weep, mother. I am the victim of a noble 
cause, of a cause entirely French. Hereafter 
justice will be rendered me and I shall be 
commiserated. 

" Yesterday morning I presented myself be- 
fore the Fourth Artillery, and was received with 
cries of Vive VEmpereur ! For a time all went 
well. The Forty-sixth resisted. We were cap- 
tured in the court-yard of their barracks. Hap- 
pily no French blood was shed. This consoles 
me in my calamity. Courage, my mother ! I 
shall know how to support, even to the end, 
the honor of the name I bear. Adieu ! Do 
not uselessly mourn my lot. Life is but a lit- 



320 HORTENSE. [1836. 



(Capture of Louis Napoleon. 



tie thing. Honor and France are every thing 
to me. I embrace you with my whole heart. 
Four tender and respectful son, 

"Louis Napoleon Bonaparte. 

" Strasburg, November 1, 1836." 

Hortense immediately hastened to France, to 
do whatever a mother's love and anguish could 
accomplish for the release of her son, though 
in crossing the frontiers she knew that she ex- 
posed herself to the penalty of death. Appre- 
hensive lest her presence in Paris might irritate 
the Government, she stopped at Viry, at the 
house of the Duchess de Eaguse. Madame 
Rdcamier repaired at once to Viry to see Hor- 
tense, where she found her in great agony. 
Soon, however, a mother's fears were partially 
relieved, as the Government of Louis Philippe, 
knowing the universal enthusiasm with which 
the Emperor and the Empire were regarded, did 
not dare to bring the young prince to trial, or 
even to allow it to be known that he was upon 
the soil of France. With the utmost precipi- 
tation they secretly hurried their prisoner 
through France, by day and by night, to the 
seaboard, where he was placed on board a 
frigate, whose captain had sealed instructions 



1886.] Life at Arenembekg. 821. 



Ansuitfh of Hortense. 



respectiog the destination of his voyage, which 
he was not to open until he had been several 
days at sea. 

Poor Hortense, utterly desolate and heart- 
broken, returned to Arenemberg. She knew 
that the life of her son had been spared, and 
that he was to be transported to some distant 
land. Bat she knew not where he would be 
sent, or what would be his destiny there. It is 
however probable that ere long she learned, 
through her numerous friends, what were the 
designs of the Government respecting him. 
She however never saw her son again until, 
upon a dying bed, she gave him her last em- 
brace and blessing. The hurried journey, and 
the terrible anxiety caused by the arrest and 
peril of her son, inflicted a blow upon Hortense 
from which she never recovered. Weary 
months passed awaj^ in the solitude of Aren^ 
emberg, until at last the heart-stricken mother 
received a package of letters from the exile. 
As the narrative contained in these letters 
throvv'S very interesting light upon the char- 
acter of the mother as well as of the son, we 
shall insert it in the next chapter. 
21 



322 HoRTENSE. [1836. 



The attempt at Strasburg. 



Chapter X. 

Letter from Louis Napoleon to 

HIS Mother. 

" "A/TY MOTHER,— To give you a detail- 
-LtjL ed recital of my misfortunes is to re- 
new 3^our griefs and mine. And still it is a 
consolation, both for you and for me, that you 
should be informed of all the impressions 
which I have experienced, and of all the emo- 
tions which have agitated me since the end of 
October. You know what was the pretext 
which I gave when I left Arenemberg. But 
you do not know what was then passing in 
my heart. Strong in my conviction which led 
me to look upon the Napoleonic cause as the 
only national cause in France, as the only civ- 
ilizing cause in Europe, proud of the nobility 
and purity of my intentions, I was fully re- 
solved to raise the imperial eagle, or to fall 
the victim of my political faith. 

" I left, taking in my carriage the same 
route which I had followed three months be- 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 823 



The attempt at Strasburg. 



fore when going from Urkirch to Baden. Ev- 
ery thing was the same around me. But what 
a difference in the impressions wdth which I 
was animated! I was then cheerful and se- 
rene as the unclouded day. But now, sad and 
thoughtful, my spirit had taken the hue of the 
air, gloomy and chill, w^hich surrounded me. 
I may be asked, what could have induced me 
to abandon a happy existence, to encounter all 
the risks of a hazardous enterprise. I reply 
that a secret voice constrained me ; and that 
nothing in the w^orld could have induced me 
to postpone to another period an attempt which 
seemed to me to present so many chances of 
success. 

"And the most painful thought for me at 
this moment is — now that reality has come to 
take the place of suppositions, and that, instead 
of imagining, I have seen— that I am firm in the 
belief that if I had followed the plan which I 
had marked out for myself, instead of being 
now under the Equator, I should be in my 
own country. Of what importance to me are 
those vulgar ones w^hich call me insensate be- 
cause I have not succeeded, and which would 
have exaggerated my merit had I triumphed ? 
I take upon myself all the responsibility of the 



324 HoRTENSE. [1836. 



Tlie attempt at Stra?burg. 



movement, for I have acted from conviction, 
and not from the influence of others. Alas ! 
if I were the only victim I should have noth- 
ing to deplore. I have found in my friends 
boundless devotion, and I have no reproaches 
to make against any one whatever. 

" On the 27th I arrived at Lahr, a small 
town of the Grand-duchy of Baden, where I 
awaited intelligence. Near that place the axle 
of my carriage broke, and I was compelled to 
remain there for a day. On the morning of 
the 28th I left Lahr, and, retracing my steps, 
passed through Fribourg, Neubrisach, and Col- 
mar, and arrived, at eleven o'clock in the even- 
ing, at Strasburg without the least embarrass- 
ment. My carriage was taken to the Hotel de 
la Fleur, while I went to lodge in a small 
chamber, which had been engaged for me, in 
the Bue de la Fontaine. 

" There I saw, on the 29th, Colonel Vaudre}^, 
and submitted to him the plan of operations 
which I had drawn up. But the colonel, whose 
noble and generous sentiments merited abetter 
fate, said to me: 

" ' There is no occasion here for a conflict 
with arms. Your cause is too French and too 
pure to be soiled in shedding French blood. 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 325 

The attempt at Strasbiirg. 

There is but one mode of procedure which is 
worthy of you, because it will avoid all col- 
lision. When you are at the head of my regi- 
ment we will march together to Greneral Voi- 
rol's.* An old soldier will not resist the sight 
of you and of the imperial eagle when he 
knows that the garrison follows you.' 

"I approved iiis reasons, and all things were 
arranged for the next morning. A house had 
been engaged in a street in the neighborhood 
of the quarter of Austerlitz, whence we all 
were to proceed to those barracks as soon as 
the regiment of artillery was assembled. 

" Upon the 29th, at eleven o'clock in the 
evening, one of my friends came to seek me at 
the Rue de la Fontaine^ to conduct me to the 
general rendezvous. We traversed together 
the whole city. A bright moon illuminated 
the streets. I regarded the fine weather as a 
favorable omen for the next day. I examined 
with care the places through which I passed. 
The silence which reigned made an impression 
upon me. By what would that calm be replaced 
to-morrow ! 

'' ' Nevertheless,' said I to my companion, 
'there will be no disorder if I succeed. It is 

* The commanding officer of the garrison. 



826 HoETENSE. [1836. 

The attempt at Strasbuig. 



especially to avoid the troubles which frequent- 
ly accompany popular movements that I have 
wished to make the revolution by means of 
the army. But,' I added, ' what confidence, 
whit profound conviction must we have of tho 
nobleness of our cause, to encounter not mere- 
ly the dangers which we are about to meet, 
but that public opinion which will load us 
with reproaches and overwhelm us if we do 
not succeed ! And still, I call God to witness 
that it is not to satisfy a personal ambition, but 
because I believe that I have a mission to ful- 
fill, that I risk that which is more dear to me 
than life, the esteem of my fellow-citizens.' 

"Having arrived at the house in the Bue des 
OrpheUns, I found my friends assembled in two 
apartments on the ground floor. I thanked 
them for the devotion which they manifested 
for my cause, and said to them that from that 
hour we would share good and bad fortune 
together. One of the officers had an eagle. It 
was that which had belonged to the seventh 
regiment of the line. ' The eagle of Labe- 
doyere,'* one exclaimed, and each one of us 

* Colonel Labedoyere was a young man of fine figure and 
elegant manners, descended from a respectable family^ and 
whose heart ever throbbed warmly in remembrance of the 
glories of the Empire. Upon the abdication of Napoleon 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 327 

The attempt at Strasburg. 

pressed it to his heart with lively emotion. 
All the officers were in full uniform. I had 
put on the uniform of the artillery and the hat 
of a major-general. 

" The night seemed to us very long. 1 
spent it in writing my proclamations, which I 
had not been willing to have printed in ad- 
vance for fear of some indiscretion. It was 
decided that we should remain in that house 
until the colonel should notify me to proceed 
to the barracks. We counted the hours, the 
minutes, the seconds. Six o'clock in the morn- 
ing was the moment indicated. 

" How difficult it is to express what one 
experiences under such circumstances. In a 

and his retirement to Elba, Labe'dovere was in command of 
the seventh regiment of the line, stationed at Grenol)le. He 
fratemized with his troops in the enthusiasm with which one 
and all were swept away at the sight of the returning Empe- 
ror. Drawing a silver eagle from his pocket, he placed it 
upon the flag-staff" and embraced it in the presence of all his 
soldiers, who, in a state of the wildest excitement, with shouts 
of joy, gathered around Napoleon, crying Vive VEmpereur! 

After Waterloo and the exile to St. Helena, Labedoyere 
was arrested, tried, and shot. It is said that the judges shed 
tears when they condemned the noble young man to death. 
His young wife threw herself at the feet of Louis XVIII., 
and, frantic with grief, cried out, "Pardon, sire, pardon!" 
Louis replied, "My duty as a king ties my hands. I can 
only pray for the soul of him whom justice has condemned." 
— AbbotVs Life of Napoleon^ \o\. ii. p. 110. 



328 HoRTENSE. [1836. 



The attempt at Strasbnrg. 



second one lives more than in ten years ; for 
to live is to make use of our organs, our senses, 
our faculties — of all the parts of ourselves 
which impart the sentiment of our existence. 
And in these critical moments our faculties, 
our organs, our senses, exalted to the highest 
degree, are concentrated on one single point. 
-It is the hour which is to decide our entire 
destiny. One is strong when he can say to 
himself, 'To-morrow I shall be the liberator of 
my country, or I shall be dead.' One is great- 
ly to be pitied when circumstances are such 
that he can neither be one nor the other. 

"Notwithstanding my precautions, the noise 
which a certain number of persons meeting to- 
gether can not help making, awoke the occu- 
pants of the first story. We heard them rise 
and open their windows. It was five o'clock. 
We redoubled our precautions, and they went 
to sleep again. 

" At last the clock struck six. Never be- 
fore did the sound of a clock vibrate so vio- . 
lently in my heart But a moment after the 
bugle from the quarter of Austerlitz came to 
accelerate its throbbings. The great moment 
was approaching. A very considerable tumult 
was heard in the street. Soldiers passed shout- 



1836.] Letter to Hortexse. 829 

The attempt at Strasburg. 

ing ; horsemen rode at fall gallop by our win- 
dows. I sent an officer to ascertain the cause 
of the tumult. Had the chief officer of the 
garrison been informed of our projects? Had 
we been discovered ? My messenger soon re- 
turned to say to me that the noise came from 
some soldiers whom the colonel had sent to 
fetch their horses, which were outside the quar- 
ter. 

" A few more minutes passed, and I was in- 
formed that the colonel was waiting for me. 
Full of hope, I hastened into the street. M. 
Parguin,* in the uniform of a brigadier-gen- 
eral, and a commander of battalion, carrying 
the eagle in his hand, are by my side. About 
a dozen officers follow me. 

"The distance was short; it was soon trav- 
ersed. The regiment was drawn up in line of 
battle in the barrack-yard, inside of the rails. 
Upon the grass forty of the horse-artillery were 
stationed. 

"My mother, judge of the happiness I ex- 

* M. Parguin was the gentleman to whom we have before 
illuded, who was a highly esteemed young officer under Na. 
v)oleon I., and who, having married Mademoiselle Cotelet, 
.he reader of Queen Hortense, had purchased the estate of 
Wolfberg, in the vicinity of Arenemberg, and became one of 
the most intimate friends of Prince Louis Napoleon. 



830 HoRTENSE. [1836. 



The attempt at Strasburg. 



perienced at that moment. After twenty -years 
of exile, I touched again the sacred soil of my 
country. I found myself with Frenchmen 
whom the recollection of the Empire was again 
to electrify. 

"Colonel Yaudrey was alone in the middle 
of the yard. I directed my steps towards him. 
Immediately the colonel, whose noble counte- 
nance and fine figure had at that moment some- 
thing of the sublime, drew his sword and ex- 
claimed: 

'"Soldiers of the Fourth Eegiment of Artil- 
lery ! A great revolution is being accohiplish- 
ed at this moment. You see here before you 
the nephew of the Emperor Napoleon. He 
comes to reconquer the rights of the people. 
The people and the army can rely upon him. 
It is around him that all should rally who love 
the glory and the liberty of France. Soldiers ! 
you must feel, as does your chief, all the grand- 
eur of the enterprise you are about to under- 
take, all the sacredness of the cause j-ou are 
about to defend. Soldiers! can the nephew 
of the Emperor rely upon you?' 

"His voice was instantly drowned by unani- 
mous cries of Vive Napoleon ! Vive TEmpereur ! 
I then addressed them in the following words: 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 831 



The attempt at Strasburg. 



" ' Eesolved to conquer or to die for the cause 
of the French people, it is to you first that I 
wish to present myself, because between you 
and me exist grand recollections. It is in your 
regiment tliat the Emperor, my uncle, served 
as captain. It is with you that he made his 
name famous at the siege of Toulon, and it is 
your brave regiment again which opened to 
him the gates of Grenoble, on his return from 
the isle of Elba. Soldiers! new destinies are 
reserved for you. To you belongs the glory 
of commencing a great enterprise ; to you the 
honor of first saluting the eagle of Austerlitz 
and of Wagram.' 

" I then seized the eagle-surmounted banner, 
which one of my ofiicers, M. de Carelles, bore, 
and presenting it to them, said, 

" ' Soldiers ! behold the symbol of the glory 
of France. During fifteen years it conducted 
our fathers to "victory. It has glittered upon 
all the fields of battle. It has traversed all the 
capitals of Europe. Soldiers! will you not 
rally around this noble standard which I con- 
fide to your honor and to your courage ? Will 
you not march with me against the traitors 
and the oppressors of our country to the cr}^, 
Vive la France ! Vive la liberie I V 



332 HoRTENSE. [1836. 

The attempt at Stra.^burg. 

"A thousand affirmative cries responded to 
me. We then commenced our march, music 
in front. Joy and hope beamed from every 
countenance. The plan was, to hasten to the 
house of the general, and to present to him, 
not a dagger at his throat, but the eagle before 
his eyes. It was necessar}', in order to reach 
liis house, to traverse the whole city. While 
on the wa}^, I had to send an officer with a 
guard to publish my proclamations; another 
to the prefect, to arrest him. In short, six re- 
ceived special missions, so that, when I arrived 
at the general's, I had voluntarily parted with 
a considerable portion of my forces. 

"But had I then necessity to surround myself 
with so many soldiers? could I not rely upon 
the participation of the people? and, in fine, 
whatever may be said, along the whole route 
which I traversed I received unequivocal signs 
of the sympathy of the population. I had actu- 
ally to struo^o^le acrainst the vehemence of the 
marks of interest which were lavished upon 
me ; and the variety of cries which greeted me 
showed that there was no party which did not 
sympathize with my feelings. 

" Having arrived at the court of the hotel of 
the general, I ascended the stairs, followed by 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 333 

The attempt at Strasburg. 

Messieurs Vaudrey, Parguin, and two officers. 
The general was not yet dressed. I said to 
him, 

'"General, I come to you as a friend. I 
should be sorry to raise our old tri-color ban- 
ner without the aid of a brave soldier like you. 
The garrison is in my favor. Decide and fol- 
low me.' 

" The eagle was presented to him. He re- 
jected it, saying, 'Prince, they have deceived 
you. The army knows its duties, as I will 
prove to you immediately.' 

" I then departed, and gave orders to leave 
a file of men to guard him. The general after- 
wards presented himself to his soldiers, to in- 
duce them to return to obedience. The artil- 
lerymen, under the orders of M. Parguin, dis- 
regarded his authorit}^, and replied to him only 
by reiterated cries of Vive TEmpereur. Subse- 
quently the general succeeded in escaping from 
his hotel by an unguarded door. 

" When I left the hotel of the general, I was 
greeted with the same acclamations of Vive 
V Einjyereur. But this fii-st check had already 
seriously affected me. I was not prepared for 
it, convinced as I had been that the sight alone 
of the eagle would recall to the general the old 



334 IIORTENSE. [1836. 

The inarch through the streets. 

souvenirs of glory, and would lead him to join 
us. 

" We resumed our march. Leaving the 
main street, we entered the barracks of Finke- 
matt, by the lane which leads there through the 
Faubourg of Pierre. This barrack is a large 
building, erected in a place with no outlet but 
'the entrance. The ground in front is too nar- 
now for a regiment to be drawn up in line of 
battle. In seeing myself thus hedged in be- 
tween the ramparts and the barracks, I per- 
ceived that the plan agreed upon had not been 
followed out. Upon our arrival, the soldiers 
thronged around us. I harangued them. 
Most of them went to got their arms, and re- 
turned to rally around me, testifying their sym- 
pathy for me by their acclamations. 

" However, seeing them manifest a sudden 
hesitation, caused by the reports circulated by 
some officers among them who endeavored to 
inspire them with doubts of my identity, and 
as we were also losing precious time in an un- 
favorable position, instead of hastening to the 
other regiments who expected us, I requested 
the colonel to depart. lie urged me to remain 
a little longer. I complied with his advice. 

" Some infantry officers arrived, ordered the 




THE ARKE3T. 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 337 

Peril of the prince. 

gates to be closed, and strongly reprimanded 
their soldiers. Tlie soldiers hesitated. I or- 
dered the arrest of the officers. Their soldiers 
rescued them. Then all was confusion. The 
space was so contracted that each one was lost 
in the crowd. The people, who had climbed 
upon the wall, threw stones at the infantry. 
The cannoneers wished to use their arms, but 
we prevented it. We saw clearly that it would 
cause the death of very many. I saw the colo- 
nel by turns arrested by the infantry, and res- 
cued by his soldiers. I was myself upon the 
point of being slain by a multitude of men 
who, recognizing me, crossed their bayonets 
upon me. I parried their thrusts with my 
sabre, trying at the same time to calm them, 
when the cannoneers rescued me from their 
guns, and placed me in the middle of them- 
selves. 

" I then pressed forward, with some subal- 
tern officers, towards the mounted artillery- 
men, to seize a horse. All the infantry fol- 
lowed me. I found myself hemmed in be- 
tween the horses and the wall, without power 
to move. Then the soldiers, arriving from all 
parts, seized me and conducted me to the 
guard- house. On entering I found M. Par* 
22 



838 HORTENSE. [1886. 

Utter failure of the enterprise. 

guin. I extended m}^ hand to him. He said 
to me, speaking in tones calm and resigned, 
' Prince, we shall be shot, but it will be in a* 
good cause.' 

"'Yes,' I replied, 'we have fallen in a grand 
and a glorious enterprise.' 

"Soon after General Voirol arrived. He 
said to me, upon entering, 

" ' Prince, you have found but one traitor in 
the French army.' 

" 'Say rather, general,' I replied, ' that I have 
found one Labedoyere.' Some carriages were 
soon brought, and we were transported to the 
new prison. 

" Behold me, then, between four walls, with 
barred windows, in the abode of criminals. 
Ah ! those who know what it is to pass in an 
instant from the excess of happiness, caused 
by the noblest illusions, to the excess of mis- 
ery, which leaves no hope, and to pass over 
this immense interval without having one mo- 
ment to prepare for it, alone can comprehend 
what was passing in my heart. 

" At the lodge we met again. M. de Que- 
relies, pressing my hand, said to me in a loud 
voice, ' Prince, notwithstanding our defeat, I 
am still proud of what we have done.' They 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 33S. 



Examination of the captive. 



subjected me to an interrogation. I was calm 
and resigned. My part was taken. The fol- 
lowing questions were proposed to me : 

" ' What has induced you to act as you have 
done?' 

" ' My political opinions,' I replied, ' and my 
desire to return to my country, from which a 
foreign invasion has exiled me. In 1830, I 
demanded to be treated as a simple citizen. 
They treated me as a pretender. Well, I have 
acted as a pretender.' 

" ' Did you wish,' it was asked, ' to establish 
a military government ?' 

"'I wished,' was my reply, 'to establish a 
g(wernment based on popular election.' 

" ' What would you have done if success- 
ful ?' 

" ' I would have assembled a national Con- 
gress.' 

"I declared then, that I alone having or- 
ganized every thing, that I alone having in- 
duced others to join me, the whole responsi- 
bility should fall upon my head alone. Ke> 
conducted to prison, I threw myself upon a 
bed which had been prepared for me, and, not- 
withstanding my torments, sleep, which soothes 
suffering, in giving repose to the anguish of 



340 HoRTENSE. [1836. 

Anxiety of Louis Najioleon for his companione. 

the sou], came to calm my senses. Eeposo 
does not fly from the couch of the unfortunate. 
It only avoids those who are consumed by re^ 
morse. But how frightful was my awaking. 
I thought that I had had a dreadful nightmare. 
The fate of the persons who were compromised 
caused me the greatest grief and anxiety. I 
wrote to General Yoirol, to say to him that his 
honor oblisred him to interest himself in behalf 
of Colonel Vaudrey ; for it was, perhaps, the at- 
tachment of the colonel for him, and the regard 
with which he had treated him, which were 
the causes of the failure of my enterprise. I 
closed in beseeching him that all the rigor of 
the law might fall upon me, saying that I was 
the most guilty, and the only one to be feared. 
" The general came to see me, and was very 
affectionate. He said, upon entering, 'Prince, 
when I was your prisoner, I could find no 
words sufficiently severe to say to j^ou. Now 
that you are mine, I have only words of con- 
solation to offer.' Colonel Yaudrey and I were 
conducted to the citadel, where I, at least, was 
much more comfortable than in prison. But 
the civil power claimed us, and at the end of 
twenty-four hours we were conveyed back to 
our former abode. 



1836.J Letter to Hoktense. 841 



Severe treatment. 



" The jailer and the director of the prison at 
Strasburg did their duty ; but they endeavor- 
ed to alleviate as much as posssible my situa- 
tion, while a certain M. Lebel, who had been 
sent from Paris, wishing to show his authority, 
prevented me from opening my windows to 
breathe the air, took from me my watch, which 
he only restored to me at the moment of my 
departure, and, in fine, even ordered blinds to 
intercept the light. 

" On the' evening of the 9th I was told that 
I was to be transferred to another prison. I 
went out and met the general and the prefect, 
who took me away in their carriage without 
informino- me where I was to be conducted. 

o 

I insisted that I should be left with my com- 
panions in misfortune. But the Government 
had decided otherwise. Upon arriving at the 
hotel of the prefecture, I found two post-chaises. 
I was ordered into one with M. Cuynat, com- 
mander of the gendarmerie of the Seine, and 
Lieutenant Thiboutot. In the other there were 
four sub-oflficers. 

"When I perceived that I was to leave 
Strasburg, and that it was my lot to be sep- 
arated from the other accused, I experienced 
anguish dif&cult to be described. Behold me, 



342 HoRTENSE. [1836. 

Sympathy cf the guard. 

then, forced to abandon the men who had de- 
voted themselves to me. Behold me deprived 
of the means of making known in my defense 
my views and my intentions. Behold me re- 
ceiving a so-called favor from him upon whom 
I had wished to inflict the greatest evil. I 
vented my sorrow in complaints and regrets. 
I could only protest. 

" The two officers who conducted me were 
two officers of the Empire, intimate friends of 
M. Parguin. Thus they treated me with the 
kindest attentions. I could have thought my- 
self travelling with friends. Upon the 11th, 
at two o'clock in the morning, I arrived at 
Paris, at the hotel of the Prefecture of Police. 
M. Delessat was very polite to me. He in- 
formed me that you had come to France to 
claim in my flivor the clemency of the king, 
and that I w^as to start again in two hours for 
Lorient, and that thence I was to sail for the 
United States in a French frigate. 

"I said to the prefect that I was in despair 
in not being permitted to share the fate of my 
companions in misfortune; that being thus 
withdrawn from prison before undergoing a 
general examination (the first had been only 
a summary one), I was deprived of the means 



1836.] Letter to IIortense. 343 

Hurried through France. 

of testifying to many facts in favor of the ac- 
cused. But nny protestations were unavailing. 
I decided to write to the king. And I said to 
him that, having been cast into prison after 
having taken up arnis against his Government, 
I dreaded but one thing, and that was his gen- 
erosity, since it would deprive me of my sweet- 
est consolation, the possibility of sharing the 
fate of my companions in misfortune. I added 
that life itself was of little value to me ; but 
that my gratitude to him would be great if he 
would spare the lives of a few old soldiers, the 
remains of our ancient army, who had been en- 
ticed by me, and seduced by glorious souvenirs. 

" At the same time I wrote to M. Odillon 
Barrot^ the letter which I send with this, beg- 
ging him to take charge of the defense of Colo- 
nel Yaudrey. At four o'clock I resumed my 
journey, with the same escort, and on the l-ith 
we arrived at the citadel of Port Louis, near 
Lorient. I remained there until the twenty- 
first day of November, when the frigate was 
ready for sea. 

" After having entreated M. Odillon Earrot 
£> assume the defense of the accused, and in 
particular of Colonel Vaudrey, I added : 

* A distinguished advocate in Paris. 



344 HoKTENSE. [1836. 

statement of Louis Napoleon. 

"'Monsieur, notwithstanding my desire to 
remain with my companions in misfortune, and 
to partake of their lot, notwithstanding my en- 
treaties '^upon that subject, the king, in his 
clemency, has ordered that I should be conduct- 
ed to Lorient, to pass thence to America. Sen- 
sible as I ought to be of the generosity of the 
king, I am profoundly afflicted in leaving my 
co-accused, since I cherish the conviction that 
could I be present at the bar, my depositions 
in their favor would influence the jury, and en- 
lighten them as to their decision. Deprived of 
the consolation of being useful to the men whom 
I have enticed to their loss, I am obliged to in- 
trust to an advocate that which I am unable to 
say myself to the jury. 

'"On the part of my co-accused there was 
no plot. There was only the enticement of the 
moment. I alone arranged all. I alone made 
the necessary preparations. I had already seen 
Colonel Yaudrey before the 30th of October, but 
he had not conspired with me. On the 29th, 
at eight o'clock in the evening, no person knew 
but myself that the movement was to take 
place the next day. I did not see Colonel 
Vaudrey until after this. M. Parguin had 
come to Strasburg on his own private business. 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 845 

Remarks to Colonel Vaudrey. 

It was not until the evening of the 29tb, that I 
appealed to him. The other persons knew of 
my presence in France, but were ignorant of 
the object of my visit. It Avas not until the 
evening of the 29th that I assembled the per- 
sons now accused ; and I did not make them 
acquainted with my intentions until tliat mo- 
ment. 

"'Colonel Vaudrey was not present. The 
officers of the engineers had come to join us, 
ignorant at first of what was to transpire. Cer- 
tainly, in the e3^es of the established Govern- 
ment we are all culpable of having taken up 
arms against it. But I am the most culpable. 
It is I who, for a long time meditating a revo- 
lution, came suddenly to lure men from an 
honorable social position, to expose them to the 
hazards of a popular movement. Before the 
laws, my companions are guilty of allowing 
themselves to be enticed. But never were cir- 
cumstances more extenuating in the eyes of the 
country than those in their favor. When I 
saw Colonel Vaudrey and the other persons on 
the evening of the 29th, I addressed them in 
the followino^ lanofuas^e: 

" ' " Gentlemen,— You are aware of all the 
complaints of the nation against the Goverrk 



S4:Q HoRTENSE. [1836. 

Remarks to Colonel Vaudrey. 

ment. But you also know that there is no 
party now existing which is sufficiently strong 
to overthrow it ; no one sufficiently strong to 
unite the French of all parties, even if it should 
succeed in taking possession of supreme power. 
This feebleness of the Government, as well as 
this feebleness of parties, proceeds from the 
fact that each one represents only the interests 
of a single class in society. Some rely upon 
the clergy and nobilit}^ ; others upon the mid- 
dle-class aristocracy, and others still upon the 
lower classes alone. 

" ' " In this state of things, there is but a 
single flag which can rally all parties, because 
it is the banner of France, and not that of a 
faction ; it is the eagle of the Empire. Under 
this banner, which recalls so many glorious 
memories, there is no class excluded. It rep- 
resents the interests and the rights of all. The 
Emperor Napoleon held his power from the 
French people. Four times his authority re 
€eived the popular sanction. In 1814, heredi- 
tary right, in the family of the Emperor, was 
recognized by four millions of votes. Since 
ihen the people have not been consulted. 

" ' '' As the eldest of the nephews of Napo- 
leon, I can then consider myself as the repre- 



1886.] Letter to Hortense. 847 

The Napoleonic system. 

sentative of popular election ; I will not say 
of the Empire because in the lapse of twenty 
years the ideas and wants of France may have 
changed. But a principle can not be annulled 
by facts. It can only be annulled by anoth- 
er principle. Now the principle of popular 
election in 1804 can not be annulled by the 
twelve hundred thousand foreigners who en- 
tered France in 1815, nor by the chamber of 
two hundred and twenty-one deputies in 1830. 

" ' " The Napoleon system consists in pro- 
motino; the march of civilization without dis- 
order and without excess ; in giving an im- 
pulse to ideas by developing material inter- 
ests; in strengthening power by rendering it 
respectable ; in disciplining the masses accord- 
ing to their intellectual faculties; in fine, in 
uniting around the altar of the country the 
French of all parties by giving them honor 
and glory as the motives of action.'' 

" ' " No," exclaimed my brave companions 
in reply, "you shall not die alone. We will 
die with you, or we will conquer together for 
the cause of the French people." 

" ' You see thus, sir, that it is I who have 
enticed them, in speaking to them of every 
thing which could move the hearts of French- 



848 HoRTENSE. [1836. 

Louis Napoleon's plea for his confederates. 

men. The}^ spoke to me of their oaths. But 
I reminded them that, in 1815, they had taken 
the oath to Napoleon II. and his dynasty. 
" Invasion alone," I said to them, " released 
yon from that oath. Well, force can re-estab- 
lish that which force alone has destroyed." ' 

" I went even so far as to say to them that 
the death of the king had been spoken of. I 
inserted this, my mother, as you will under- 
stand, in order to be useful to them. You see 
how culpable I was in the eyes of the Govern-, 
ment. Well, the Government has been gener- 
ous to me. It has comprehended that my po- 
sition of exile, that my love for my country, 
that my relationship to the great man were ex- 
tenuating causes. Will the jurv be less con- 
siderate than the Government? Will it not 
find extenuating causes far stronger in favor 
of my accomplices, in the souvenirs of the Em- 
pire ; in the intimate relations of many among 
them to me; in the enticement of the moment; 
in the example of Labedo3^ere ; in fine, in that 
sentiment of generosity which rendered it in- 
evitable that, being soldiers of the Empire, 
they could not see the eagle without emotion ; 
they preferred to sacrifice thetr own lives rath- 
er than abandon the nephew of the Emperor 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 349 

Scenes at sea. 

Napoleon, than to deliver him to bis execu- 
tioners, for we were far from thinking of any 
mercy in case of failure? 

" In view of INIadeira, December 12, 1836. 

" I remained ten days at the citadel of Port 
Louis. Every morning I received a visit from 
the sub-prefect of Lorient, fi'om the command- 
er of the place, and from the officer of the gen- 
darmerie. The}^ were all very kind to me, 
and never ceased to speak to me of their at- 
tachment to the memory of the Emperor. The 
commander, Cuynat, and Lieutenant Thiboutot, 
w^ere unfailing in their attentions to me. I 
could ever believe myself in the midst of my 
friends, and the thought that they were in a 
position hostile to me gave me much pain. 

"The wnnds remained contrary and prevent- 
ed the frigate from leaving port. At last, on 
the 21st, a steamer towed out the frigate. The 
sub-prefect came to tell me that it was time to 
depart. The draw-bridge of the citadel was 
lowered. I went forth, accompanied by the 
hospitable officers of the place, in addition to 
those who brought me to Lorient. I passed 
between two files of soldiers, who kept off the 
crowd of the curious, which had gathered to 
see me. 



350 HoRTENSE. [1836. 



Life on board the frisrate. 



" We all entered the boats which were to 
convey us to the frigate, which was waiting 
for us outside of the harbor. I took leave of 
these gentlemen with cordialit3^ I ascended 
to the deck, and saw with sadness of heart the 
shores of France disappear behind me. 

" I must now give you the details of the 
frigate. The commander has assigned me a 
stateroom in the stern of the ship, where I 
sleep. I dine with him, his son, the second of- 
ficer, and the aide-de-camp. The commander, 
captain of the ship, Henry de Yilleneuve, is an 
excellent man, frank and loyal as an old sailor. 
He pays me every attention. You see that I 
have much less to complain of than my friends. 
The other officers of the frigate are also very 
kind to me. 

" There are two other passengers who are 
two types. The one, an M. D., is a savcmt, 
twenty-six years of age. He has much intelli- 
gence and imagination, mingled with original- 
ity, and even with a little eccentricity. For 
example, he believes in fortune - telling, and 
undertakes to predict to each one of us his 
fate. He has also great faith in magnetism, 
and has told me that a somnambulist had pre- 
dicted to him, two years ago, that a member 



1836.] Letter to Hortense. 351 

Uncertainty of the destination. 

of the family of the Emperor would return to 
France and would dethrone Louis Philippe, 
He is going to Brazil to make some experi- 
ments in electricity. The other passenger is 
an ancient librarian of Don Pedro, who has 
preserved all the manners of the ancient court. 
Maltreated at Brazil, in consequence of his at- 
tachment to the Emperor, he returns there to 
obtain redress. 

" The first fifteen days of the voyage were 
very disagreeable. We were continually toss- 
ed about by tempests and by contrary winds, 
which drove us back almost to the entrance of 
the Channel. It was impossible during that 
time to take a single step without clinging to 
whatever could be seized with one's hand. 

" For several days we did not know that our 
destination was changed. The commander had 
sealed orders, which he opened and which di- 
rected him to go to Eio Janeiro ; to remain 
there as long as should be necessary to re-pro- 
vision the vessel; to retain me on board dur- 
ing the whole time the frigate remained in the 
harbor, and then to convey me to New York. 
Now you know that this frigate was destined to 
go to the southern seas, where it will remain 
stationed for two years. It was thus compelled 



352 HoRTENSE. [1836. 

Reflections of the captive. 

to make an additional voj^age of three thou- 
sand leagues; for from New York it will be 
obliged to return to Tiio, making a long circuit 
to the east in order to take advantage of the 
trade- winds. 

"In view of the Canaries, December 14th. 

"Every man carries within himself a world, 
composed of all which he has seen and loved, 
and to which he returns incessantly, even when 
he is traversing foreign lands. I do not know, 
at such times, which is the most painful, the 
memory of the misfortunes which you have en- 
countered, or of the happy days which are no 
moi'e. We have passed through the winter 
and are again in summer. The trade-winds 
have succeeded the tempests, so that I can 
spend most of my time on deck. Seated upon 
the poop, I reflect upon all which has happen- 
ed to me, and I think of you and of Arenem- 
berg. Situations depend upon the affections 
which one cherishes. Two months ago I asked 
only that I might never return to Switzerland. 
Now, if I should yield to my impressions, I 
should have no other desire than to find my- 
self again in my little chamber in that beauti- 
ful country, where it seems to me that I ought 
to be so happy. Alas! when one has a soul 



1886.] Letter to Hortense. 353 

Reflections of the captive. 

which feels deeply, one is destined to pass his 
days in the languor of inaction or in the con- 
vulsions of distressing situations. 

" When I returned, a few months ago, from 
conducting Matilde," in entering the park I 
found a tree broken by the storm, and I said 
to myself, our marriage will be broken by fate. 
That which I vaguely imagined has been real- 
ized. Have I, then, exhausted in 1886 all the 
share of happiness which is to be allotted to 
me? 

" Do not accuse me of feebleness if I allow 
mj^self to give you an account of all my im- 
pressions. One can regret that w^hich he has 
lost, without repenting of that which he has 
done. Besides, our sensations are not so inde- 
pendent of interior causes, but that our ideas 
should be somewhat modified by the objects 
which surround us. The rays of the sun or 
the direction of the wind have a great influence 
over our moral state. When it is beautiful 
weather, as it is to-da}^, the sea being as calm 
as the Lake of Constance when we used to 
walk upon its banks in the evening — when the 
moon, the same moon, illumines us with the 

* The Princess Matilde, his cousin, daughter of Jerome, 
with whom it is supposed that he then contemplated marriage. 

23 



854 HoETENSE. [1836. 



Crossing the equator. 



same softened brilliance — when the atmos- 
phere, in fine, is as mild as in the month of 
August in Europe, — then I am more sad than 
usual. All memories, pleasant or painful, fall 
with the same weight upon my heart. Beauti- 
ful weather dilates the heart and renders it 
more impressible, while bad weather contracts 
it. The passions alone are independent of the 
changes of the seasons. When we left the bar- 
racks of Austerlitz, a flurry of snow fell upon 
us. Colonel Yaudre}^, to whom I made the re- 
mark, said to me, 'Notwithstanding this squall, 
we shall have a fine dny.' 

"December 29th. 
" We passed the line yesterday. The cus- 
tomary ceremony took place. The command- 
er, who is always very polite to me, exempted 
me from the baptism. It is an ancient usage, 
but which, nevertheless, is not sensible, to fete 
the passage of the line by throwing water over 
one's self and aping a divine office. It was 
very hot. I have found on board enough 
books to occupy my time. I have read again 
the works of M. de Chateaubriand and of J. J. 
Eousseau. Still, the motion of the ship ren- 
ders all occupation fatiguing. 



1837.J Letter to Hortense. 355 

Letter to his mother. 

' January 1, 1837. 

*' My dear Mamma, Ma chere Maman, — 
This is the first day of the year. I am fifteen 
hundred leagues from you in another hemis- 
phere. Happily, thought traverses that space 
in less than a second. I am near you. 1 ex- 
press to you my profound regret for all the 
sorrows which I have occasioned you. I renew 
to you the expression of my tenderness and of 
my gratitude. 

" This morning the officers came in a body 
to wish me a happy new year. I w^as much 
gratified by this attention on their part. At 
half-past four we were at the table. As we 
were seventeen degrees of longitude west of 
Constance, it was at that same time seven 
o'clock at Arenemberg. You were probably 
at dinner. I drank, in thought, to your health. 
You perhaps did the same for me. At least I 
flattered m3'self in believing so at that moment. 
I thought, also, of my companions in misfor-' 
tune. Alas! I think continually of them. I 
thought that they were more unhappy than 
I, and that thought renders me more unhappy 
than they. 

. " Present my yevy tender regards to good 
Madame Salvage, to the young ladies, to that 



856 HoRTENSE. [1837. 



Arrival at Rio Janeiro. 



poor little Clair^, and to M. Cottrau, and to 
Arsene. 

•* January 5th. 

"We have had a squall, which struck us 
with extreme violence. If ^he sails had not 
been torn to pieces by the wind the frigate 
would have been in great danger. One of the 
masts was broken. The rain fell so impetu- 
ously that the sea was entirely white. To-day 
the sky is as serene as usual, the damages are 
repaired, and the tempestuous weather is forgot- 
ten. But it is not so with the storms of life. 
In speaking of the frigate, the commander told 
me that the frigate which bore your name is 
now in the South Sea, and is called La Flora. 

"JanuaiylO. 

"We have arrived at Rio Janeiro. The 
coup cCoeil of the harbor is superb. To-mor- 
row I shall make a drawing of it. I hope that 
this letter will soon reach you. Do not think 
of coming to join me. I do not yet know 
where I shall settle. Perhaps I may find more 
inducements to live in South America. The 
labor to which the uncertainty of my lot will 
oblige me to devote mj^self, in order to create 
for myself a position, will be the only consola- 



1837.] Letter to Hortense. 857 



Remembrance of friends. 



tion which I can enjoj. Adieu, my mother. 
Remember me to the old servants, and to our 
friends of Thurgovia and of Constance. I am 
very well. Your affectionato and respectfiJ 
son, Louis Napoleon Bonaparte." 



858 HoRTENSE. [1837. 



Cruel slanders. 



Chapter XI. 

The Death of Hortense, and the 
Enthronement of her Son. 

AFTER a short tarry at Rio Janeiro, dur- 
ing which the prince was not permitted 
to land, the frigate again set sail, and on the 
80th of March, 1837, reached Norfolk, Virginia. 
The prince proceeded immediately to New 
York. By a cruel error, which has mistaken 
him for one of his cousins, Pierre Bonaparte, a 
very wild young man, the reputation of Louis 
Napoleon has suffered very severely in this 
country. The evidence is conclusive that there 
has been a mistake. Louis Napoleon, thought- 
ful, studious, pensive, has ever been at the far- 
thest possible remove from vulgar dissipation. 
A writer in the Home Journal^ whose relia- 
bility is vouched for by the editor, says, in 
reference to his brief residence in New York : 
'' He is remembered as a quiet, melancholy 
man, winning esteem rather by the unaffected 
modesty of his demeanor than by eclat of lin- 



1837.] Death of Hoetexse. 859 

Brief stay in this country. 

eage or the romantic incidents which had befall- 
en him. In the words of a distinguished 
writer, who well knew him at that day : ' So 
unostentatious was his deportment, so correct, 
so pure his life, that even the ripple of scandal 
can not appear plausibly upon its surface.' 
We have inquired of those who entertained 
him as their guest, of those who tended at his 
sick-bed, of the artist who painted his minia- 
ture, of his lady friends (and he was known to 
some who yet adorn society), of politicians, 
clergymen, editors, gentlemen of leisure, ii^ fact, 
of every source whence reliable information 
coul(J be obtained, and we have gathered but 
accumulated testimonials to his intrinsic worth 
and fair fame." 

Prince Louis Napoleon remained in this 
country but seven weeks. The testimony of 
all who knew him is uncontradicted, that he 
was peculiarly winning in his attractions as 
a friend, and irreproachable as a man. Eev. 
Charles S. Stewart, of the United States Navy^ 
was intimately acquainted with him during the 
whole period of his residence here. He writes : 

"The association was not that of hours only 
but of days, and on one occasion, at least, of 
days in succession ; and was characterized by 



360 HoRTENSE. [1837. 



Elevated personal character. 



a freedom of conversation on a great variety 
of topics that could scarce fail, under the in- 
genuousness and frankness of bis manner, to 
put me in possession of his views, principles, 
and feelings upon most points that give insight 
to character. 

"I never heard a sentiment from him and 
never witnessed a feeling that could detract 
from his honor and purity as a man, or his dig- 
nity as a prince. On the contrary, I often had 
occasion to admire the lofty thought and ex- 
alted conceptions which seemed most to occu- 
py his mind. He was winning in the invaria- 
bleness of his amiability, often playful in spirits 
and manner, and warm in his affections. He 
was a most fondly attached son and seemed to 
idolize his mother. When speaking of her, the 
intonations of his voice and his whole manner 
were often as gentle and feminine as those of a 
woman. 

"In both eating and drinking he was, as far 
as I observed, abstemious rather than self-in- 
dulgent. I repeatedly breakfasted, dined, and 
supped in his company ; and never knew him 
to partake of any thing stronger in drink than 
the light wines of France and Germany, and of 
these in great moderation. I have been with 



1837.] Death of Hoetense. 861 

Testimony to liis private wortli. 



him early and late, unexpectedly as well as by 
appointment, and never saw reason for the 
slightest suspicion of any irregularity in his 
habits." 

Such is the testimony, so far as can be ascer- 
tained, of every one who enjoyed any personal 
acquaintance with Louis Napoleon while in 
this country. He was the guest of Washing- 
ton Irving, Chancellor Kent, and of the Hamil- 
tons, Clintons, Livingstons, and other such dis- 
tinguished families in New York. 

While busily engaged in studying the insti- 
tutions of our country and making arrange- 
ments for quite an extensive tour through the 
States, he received a letter from his mother 
which immediately changed all his plans. The 
event is thus described by Mr. Stewart: 

" With this expectation he consulted me and 
others as to the arrangement of the route of 
travel, so as to visit the different sections of the 
Union at the most desirable seasons. But his 
plans were suddenly changed by intelligence 
of the serious- illness of Queen Hortense, or, as 
then styled, the Duchess of St. Leu. I was 
dining with him the day the letter conveying 
this information was received. Kecognizing 
the writing on the envelope, as it was handed 



• 



362 HoRTENSE. [1837. 



Letter from Hortense to her son. 



to him at the table, he hastily broke the seal 
and had scarce glanced over half a page before 
he exclaimed: 

"'My mother is ill. I must see her. In- 
stead of a tour of the States, I shall take the 
next packet for England. I will apply for 
passports for the Continent at every embassy 
in London, and if unsuccessful, will make my 
way to her without them.' " 

The following was the letter which he re- 
ceived from his mother : 

"My dear Son, — I am about to submit to an 
operation which has become absolutely necessa- 
ry. If it is not successful I send you, by this let- 
ter, my benediction. We shall meet again, shall 
we not ? in a better world, where may you come 
to join me as late as possible. In leaving this 
world I have but one regret ; it is to leave you 
and your affectionate tenderness — the greatest 
charm of my existence here. It will be a con- 
solation to you, my dear child, to reflect that by 
your attentions you have rendered your moth- 
er as hapjDy as it was possible for her, in her 
circumstances, to be. Think that a loving and 
a watchful eye still rests on the dear ones we 
leave behind, and that we shall surely meet 



1837.] Death of Hortense. 363 

Anxieti©?, sorrows, and sickness of Hortense. 

again. Cling to this sweet idea. It is too 
necessary not to be true. I press you to my 
heart, my dear son. I am very calm and re- 
signed, and hope that we shall again meet in 
this world. Your affectionate mother, 

" HORTENSE. 
" Arenemberg, Aprils, 1837." 



As we have mentioned. Queen Hortense, 
upon receiving news of the arrest of her son, 
hastened to France to do what she could to save 
him. Madame Eecamier found her at Yiry, in 
great anguish of spirit. When she received 
tidings of his banishment she returned, over- 
whelmed with the deepest grief, to her deso- 
lated home. It seems that even then an inter- 
nal disease, which, with a mother's love, she 
had not revealed to her son, was threatening 
her life. Madame Eecamier, as she bade her 
adieu, was much moved by the great change 
in her appearance. The two friends never 
met again. 

Madame Salvage, a distinguished lady, who 
had devoted herself with life-long enthusiasm 
to the Queen of Holland, accompanied her to 
France and returned with her to Arenemberg. 
On the 13th of April, Madame Salvage wrote 



364 HoRTENSE. [1837. 



Letter to Madame Recamier. 



the following letter from Arenemberg to Ma- 
dame Eecamier. 

"I wrote you a long letter four daj^s ago, 
dear friend, telling you of my unbappiness. I 
received yesterday your letter of the 7th, for 
which I thank you. I needed it much, and it 
is a consolation to me. 

"I have informed Madame, the Duchess of 
St. Leu, of the lively interest you take in her 
troubles, and have given her your message. 
She was much touched by it, even to tears; 
and has begged me several times to tell you 
how much she appreciated it. 

" I have not replied to you sooner, because I 
hoped to give you better tidings. Alas! it is 
quite the contrary. After a consultation of 
the physicians of Constance and Zurich with 
Dr. Conneau, her own physician, Professor Lis- 
franc, from Paris, was called in, on account of 
his skill, and also because he is the recognized 
authority with regard to the operation two of 
these gentlemen thought necessary. 

" After a careful examination, the opinion 
of M. Lisfranc and that of the three other con- 
sulting physicians was, that the operation was 
impossible. They were unanimous in pro- 
nouncing an irrevocable sentence, and they 



1837.] Death of Hortense. 865 

Hortense receives letters from her sou. 

have left us no hope in human resources. I 
still like to trust in the infinite goodness of 
God, whom I implore with earnest prayers. 

" The mind of madame the duchess is as 
calm as one could expect in a position like 
hers. They told her that they would not per- 
form the operation because it was not necessar}^, 
and because a mere treatment would suffice, 
with time and patience, to produce a perfect 
cure. She had been quite resigned to submit 
to the operation, showing a noble courage. 
Now she is happy in not being obliged to un- 
dergo it, and is filled with hope. 

" In anticipation of the operation, of which, 
against my advice, she had been told a fortnight 
before M. Lisfranc came, she made her will and 
attended to the last duties of relio-ion. 

''On the 80th of March, an hour after she 
had partaken of the communion, she had the 
jo}^, which she looked upon as a divine favor, 
of receiving a large package from her son, the 
first since the departure from Lorient. His 
letter, which is very long, contains a relation 
of all he has done, all that has happened to 
him, and much that he has felt since he left 
Arenemberg, until he wrote, the 10th of Jan- 
uary, on board the frigate Andromeda, lying in 



366 HORTENSE. [1837. 

Louis Napoleon returns to Arenemberg. 

the harbor of Rio Janeiro, where he was not 
permitted to go on shore. He had on board 
M. de Chateaubriand's works, and re-read them 
during a frightful storm that lasted a fortnight, 
and allowed of no other occupation, and scarce- 
ly that. Pray tell this to M. de Chateaubriand, 
in recalling me personally to his kind remem- 
brance. 

"Think of me sometimes. Think of my 
painful position. To give to a person whom 
we love, and whom we are soon to lose, a care 
that is perfectly ineffectual; to seek to alleviate 
sharp and almost continual suffering, and only 
succeed very imperfectly; to wear a calm 
countenance when the heart is torn ; to de- 
ceive, to try unceasingly to inspire hopes that 
we no longer cherish,--— ah, believe me, this is 
frightful, and one would cheerfully give up 
life itself Adieu, dear friend, you know how 
I love you." 

Louis 'N'apoleon, hastening to the bedside of 
his dying mother, took ship from New York 
for London. The hostility of the allied powers 
to him was such that it was with great difficulty 
he could reach Arenemberg. He arrived there 
just in time to receive the dying blessing of 
his mother and to close her eyes in death. 



1837.} Death of Hortense. 367 

Death of Hortense. 

Just before she died, Hortense assembled all her 
household in the dying chamber. She took 
each one affectionately by the hand and ad- 
dressed to each one a few words of adieu. 
Her son, her devoted physician Dr. Conneau, 
and the ladies of her household, bathed in tears, 
were kneeling by her bedside. Her mind, in 
delirious dreams, had again been with the Em- 
peror, sympathizing with him in the terrible 
tragedy of his fall. But now, as death drew 
near, reason was fully restored. " I have 
never," said she, " done wrong to any one. 
God will have mercy upon me." Conscious that 
the final moment had arrived, she made an ef- 
fort to throw her arms around the neck of her 
son in a mother's last embrace, when she fell 
back upon her pillow dead. It was October 5, 
1887. 

The prince, with his own hands, closed his 
mother's eyes in that sleep which knows no 
earthly waking. He remained for some time 
upon his knees at her bedside, with his weeping 
eyes buried in his hands. At last he was led 
away from the precious remains from which it 
seemed impossible for him to separate himself 
His home and his heart were indeed desolate. 
Motherless, with neither brother nor sister, his 



368 HoRTENSE. [1887. 



Action of the Government of Louis Philippe. 



aged and infirm father dying in Italy, where 
he could not be permitted to visit him, banished 
from his native land, jealously watched and 
menaced by all the allied powers, his fair name 
maligned, all these considerations seemed to fill 
his cup of sorrow to the brim. 

It was the dying wish of Hortense that she 
might be buried by the side of Josephine, her 
mother, in the village church of Ruel, near Mal- 
maison. The Government of Louis Philippe, 
which had closed the gates of France against 
Hortense while living, allowed her lifeless re- 
mains to sleep beneath her native soil. But 
the son was not permitted to follow his mother 
to her grave. It was feared that his appear- 
ance in France would rouse the enthusiasm of 
the masses; that they would rally around him, 
and, sweeping away the throne of Louis Phi- 
lippe in a whirlwind of indignation, would re- 
establish the Empire. Madame Recamier, 
speaking of the death of Hortense, says: 

" After the unfortunate attempt of Prince 
Louis, grief, anxiety and perhaps the loss of a 
last and secret hope, put an end to the turbu- 
lent existence of one who was little calculated 
to lead such a life of turmoil. France, closed 
to her living, was open to her dead, and she 



1887.] Death of Hortense. 869 

Burial of Hortense. 

was carried to Rael and laid beside her mother. 
A funeral service was celebrated in her honor 
at the village church. All the relics of the 
Empire were there; among them the widow 
of Murat,*^ who there witnessed the ceremony 
that shortly afterwards was to be performed 
over herself. 

" It was winter. A thick snow covered the 
ground. The landscape was as silent and cold 
as the dead herself. I gave sincere tears to 
this woman so gracious and so kind ; and I 
learned shortl}^ afterwards that she had remem- 
bered me in her will. It is not without a pro 
found and a reli^'ious emotion that we receive 
these remembrances from friends who are no 
more ; these pledges of affection which come 
to 3'ou, so to say, from across the tomb, as if to 
assure 3^0 u that thoughts of you had followed 
them as far as there. Judge, then, how touched 
I was in receiving the legacy destined for me — 
that light, elegant, and mysterious gift, chosen 
to recall to me unceasingly the tie that had ex- 
isted between ns. It was a lace veil, the one 
she wore the day of our meeting in St. Peter's." 

In reference to the mother and the son, Julie 
de Marguerittes writes: "Louis Napoleon's 

* Caroline Bonaparte. 

24 



870 HORTENSE. [1840. 

Louis Napoleon's love for his mother. 

love for his mother had in it a tenderness and 
devotion even beyond that of a son. She had 
been his instructor and companion ; and from 
the hour of her change of position she had 
manifested great and noble qualities, which the 
frivolity and prosperity of a court might for- 
ever have left unrevealed. Hortense was a 
woman to be loved and revered. And even 
at this distance of years, Napoleon's love for his 
mother has suffered no change. He has striv- 
en, in all ways, to associate her with his present 
high fortune. He has made an air of her com- 
position, ' Partant pour la Syrie,' the national 
air of France. The ship which bore him from 
Marseilles to Genoa, on his Italian expedition, 
is called La Reine Hortense^ after his mother." 

Scarcely were the remains of Hortense com- 
mitted to the tomb, ere the Swiss Government 
received an imperative command from the Gov- 
ernment of Louis Philippe to banish Louis Na- 
poleon from the soil of Switzerland. To save 
the country which had so kindly adopted him 
from war, the prince retired to London. He 
could have no hopes of regaining his rights as 
a French citizen until the Government of 
Louis Philippe should be overthrown. Anoth- 
er attempt was made at Boulogne in August 



1840.] Death of Hortense. 871 

Account of the escape from Ham. 

1840. It proved a failure. Louis Napoleon 
was again arrested, tried, and condemned to 
imprisonment for life. Six years he passed in 
dreary captivity in the Castle of Ham. The 
following brief account of the wonderful escape 
of the prince is given in his own words, con- 
tained in a letter to the editor of the Journal 
de la Somme. 

" My dear M. de George, — My desire to see 
m}^ father once more in this world made me at- 
tempt the boldest enterprise I ever engaged in. 
It required more resolution and courage on my 
part than at Strasburg or Boulogne ; for I was 
determined not to bear the ridicule that attach- 
es to those who are arrested escaping nnder a 
disguise, and a failure I could not have en- 
dured. The following are the particulars of 
my escape : 

"You know that the fort was guarded by 
four hundred men, who furnished daily sixty 
soldiers, placed as sentries outside the walls.. 
Moreover, the principal gate of the prison was 
guarded by three jailers, two of whom were 
constantly on dut}^ It was necessary |;hat I 
should first elude their vigilance, afterwards 
traverse the inside court before the windows 
of the commandant's residence, and arriving 



872 HoRTEKSE. [1846. 



The escape from Ham. 



there, I should be obhgecl to pass by a gate 
which was guarded by soldiers. 

" Kot wishing to communicate my design to 
any one, it was necessary to disguise myself. 
As several of the rooms in the building I oc- 
cupied were undergoing repairs, it was not diffi- 
cult to assume the dress of a workman. My 
good and faithful valet, Charles Thelin, pro- 
cured a smock-frock and a pair of wooden 
shoes, and after shaving off my mustaches I 
took a plank upon my shoulders. 

" On Monday morning I saw the workmen 
enter at half-past eight o'clock. Charles took 
them some drink, in order that I should not 
meet any of them on my passage. He was 
also to call one of the turnkeys while De Con- 
neau conversed with the others. Nevertheless 
I had scarcely got out of my room before I 
was accosted b}^ a workman who took me for 
one of his comrades ; and at the bottom of the 
stairs I found mj^self in front of the keeper. 
Fortunately, I placed the plank I was carrj^ing 
befo^re my face, and succeeded in reaching the 
yard. Whenever I passed a sentinel or any 
other person I always kept the plank before 
my face. 

*' Passing before the first sentinel, I let my 



1846.] Death of Hortense. 873 

The escape from Ham. 

pipe fall and stopped to pick up the bits. 
There I met the officer on duty ; but as he 
was reading a letter he did not pay attention 
to me. The soldiers at the guard-house ap- 
peared surprised at my dress, and a drummer 
turned around several times to look at me. I 
placed the plank before my face, but they ap- 
peared to be so curious that I thought I should 
never escape them until I heard them cry, ' Oh, 
it is Bernard !' 

" Once outside, I walked quickly towards the 
road of St. Quentin. Charles, wfio the day be- 
fore had engaged a carriage, shortly overtook 
me, and we arrived at St. Quentin. I passed 
through the town on foot, after having thrown 
off my smock-frock. Charles procured a post- 
chaise, under pretext of going to Cambrai. 
We arrived without meeting with any hin- 
drance at Valenciennes, where I took the rail- 
way. I had procured a Belgian passport, but 
nowhere was I asked to show it. 

" During my escape. Dr. Conneau, always so 
devoted to me, remained in prison, and caused 
them to believe that I was ill, in order to give 
me time to reach the frontier. It was neces- 
sary to be convinced that the Government 
would never set me at liberty if I would not 



374 HoiiTENSE. [1846. 

Louis Jsapoleon in London. 

consent to dishonor myself, before I could be 
persuaded to quit France. It was also a mat- 
ter of duty that I should exert all my powers 
to be able to console my father in his old age. 

" Adieu, my dear M. de George. Although 
free, I feel myself to be most unhappy. Ee- 
ceive the assurance of my sincere friendship ; 
and if you are able, endeavor to be useful to 
my kind Conneau." 

It was the latter part of May, 1846, that Louis 
Napoleon escaped from Ham. He repaired 
immediately to London. In accordance with 
his habits and bis tastes, he continued to de- 
vote himself earnestly to his studies, still cher- 
ishing the unfaltering opinion that he was yet 
to be the Emperor of France. In London he 
was cordially welcomed by his old friends, 
Count d'Orsay and Lady Blessington. His 
cousin Maria of Baden, then Lady Douglass, 
subsequently the Duchess of Hamilton, was 
proud to receive him in her sumptuous abode, 
and to present him to her aristocratic friends. 
To her, it is said that he confided his projects 
and hopes more frankly than to any one else. 
In one of his notes he wrote, 

"My dear Cousin,^ — I do not belong to 



1848.] Death of Hortense. 375 

Overthrow of Louis Philippe. 

myself, I belong to my name and my country. 
It is because my fortune has twice betrayed 
me, that my destiny is nearer its accomplish- 
ment. I bide my time." 

In the latter part of February, 1848, the 
throne of Philippe was overturned, and he fled 
from France. Louis Napoleon immediately 
returned to Paris after so many weary years 
of exile. This is not the place to describe the 
scenes which ensued. It is sufficient simply 
to state that, almost by acclamation, he was sent 
by the people of Paris to the Assembly, was 
there elected president of the Eepublic, and 
then, by nearly eight million of votes, the Em- 
pire was re-established and Louis Napoleon 
was placed upon the imperial throne. 

As soon as Louis Napoleon was chosen 
president of the French Eepublic, Walter Sav- 
age Landor, a brilliant scholar, a profound, 
original thinker, and a highly independent 
and honorable man, wrote as follows to Lady 
Blessington, under date of January 9th, 1849: 

" Possibly you may have never seen the two 
articles which I enclose. I inserted another 
in the 'Examiner,' deprecating the anxieties 
which a truly patriotic and, in my opinion, a 
singularly wise man, was about to encounter. 



876 HoRTENSE. [1849. 



Walter Savage Landor. 



in accepting the presidency of France. Ne- 
cessity will compel him to assume the imperial 
power, to which the voice of the army and of 
the people will call him. Yon know, who 
know not merely my writings but my heart, 
how little I care for station. I may therefore 
tell you safel}^, that I feel a great interest, a 
great anxiety for the welfare of Louis Napo- 
leon. I told him that if he were ever again in 
prison, I would visit him there, but never if he 
were upon a throne would I come near him. 
He is the only man living who would adorn 
one. But thrones are my aversion and ab- 
horrence. France, I fear, can exist in no oth- 
er condition. May God protect the virtuous 
Louis Napoleon, and prolong in happiness the 
days of m}^ dear kind friend Lady Blessington. 
"Walter Savage Landor. 
"P.S. — I wrote a short letter to the Presi- 
dent, and not of congratulation. May he find 
many friends as disinterested and sincere." 

Even the blunt Duke of Wellington wrote 
as follows to the Count d'Orsay under date of 
April 9, 1849: "I rejoice at the prosperity of 
France and of the success of the president of 
the Eepublic, Every thing tends towards the 



1849.] Death of Hortense. 877 



Empress Eugenie. 



permanent tranquillity of Europe," which is 
necessary for the happiness of all. 

If Hortense from the spirit-land can look 
down upon her son, her heart must be cheered 
in view of the honors which his native land, 
with such unprecedented unanimity, has con- 
ferred upon him. And still more must her 
heart be cheered in view of the many, many 
years of peace, prosperity, and happiness which 
France has enjoyed under his reign. Every 
well-informed man will admit that the king- 
dom of France has never, since its foundations 
were laid, enjoyed so many years of tranquilli- 
ty, and of mental and material advancement at 
home, and also of respect and influence abroad, 
as during th© reign of the son of Hortense. 

The Emperor is eminently happy in his do- 
mestic relations. There are none who know 
the Empress Eugenie who do not revere and 
love her. She is the worthy successor of Jo- 
sephine, upon the throne of the reinstated em- 
pire. The following beautiful tribute to her 
virtues comes from the lips of our former dis- 
tinguished ambassador at the court of France, 
Hon. John A. Dix. They were uttered in a 
speech which he addressed to the American 
residents in Paris, upon the occasion of his 



878 HoRTENSE. [1869. 



Testimony of General Dix. 



surrendering the ambassadorial chair to his 
successor, Hon. Mr. Washburne. It was in 
June, 1869. 

" Qf her who is the sharer of the Emperor's 
honors and the companion of his toils — who 
in the hospital, at the altar, or on the throne is 
alike exemplary in the discharge of her varied 
duties, whether incident to her position, or 
voluntarily taken upon herself, it is difficult 
for me to speak without rising above the level 
of the common language of eulogism. 

" But I am standing here to-day, as a citizen 
of the United States, without official relations 
to my own Government, or any other. I have 
taken my leave of the imperial fiimily, and I 
know no reason why I may not freely speak 
what I honestly think ; especially as I know I 
can say nothing which will not find a cordial 
response in your own breasts. 

"As in the history of the ruder sex, great 
luminaries have from time to time risen high 
above the horizon, to break, and at the same 
time to illustrate, the monotony of the general 
movement, — so in the annals of hers, brilliant 
lights have at intervals shone forth, and shed 
their lustre upon the stately march of regal 
pomp and power. 



1869.] Death of Hortense. 379 

Testimony of General Dix. 

" When I have seen her taking part in the 
most imposing of all imperial pageants — the 
opening of the Legislative Chambers — stand- 
ing amid the assembled magistracy of Paris, 
surrounded by the representatives of the tal- 
ent, the genius, and the piety of this great em- 
pire; or amidst the resplendent scenes of the 
palace, moving about with a gracefulness all 
her own, and with a simplicity of manner 
which has a double charm when allied to ex- 
alted rank and station, I confess that I have 
more than once whispered to myself, and I be- 
lieve not always inaudibly, the beautiful verse 
of the graceful and courtly Claudiau, the last 
of the Roman poets, 

"■ ' Dhino semitu, gressu claruit ;' 

or, rendered in our own plain English, and 
stripped of its poetic hyperbole, ' The very path 
she treads is radiant with her unrivalled stepj " 



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